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’