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Hemant Karakare's Son

The dazzling light of my father’s pyre
Is more potent than any other
The smoke that rises from my father’s pyre
No dusky fumes can be as bold.

Clouds assemble in my father’s sky
Raindrops patter… upon his decaying corpse
Battles end and sleep descends
While honour slips into comatose bliss

Violence flows today a river in spate
The whole city bathes in my father’s blood
I threw away the million bucks they gave
Trying to mock the valour of the dead

I see life brimming in his soul
He emptied all and was left with none
I see bullets sparkling in his eyes
Those don’t yet know how to retreat back…

My father’s remains are now in my hand
My fists hold fragments of this land
Tears no more… let immense anger rise
My fists- the tombs of my father, dead

I see ash scattered everywhere
The leaping flames sighed and then perished
My father’s pyre keeps burning… alas alone
And a bleeding nation rests- in peace

poem by Debayudh Chatterjee
Added by Poetry Lover
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