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The willowy whiff of milky clouds

Parted like the waters of Yam Suph. 

The dam burst, in sudden spurts

Gushed the tears over his wrinkled cheeks.

The valise revealed a bygone era

Of meaningless months & faux valour.

He caressed the olive green remnants 

Of his only son martyred in a war futile.

With utmost tenderness he shut

Off the painful memories.

The blank canvas of his life

Waited in hope for vibrancy and hues.


P.C – Surface from ‘Unsplash’

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