The drones of the Kamikaze
Cause ripples in the silence
After nightfall.
The season starts again
When War is waged;
One sided really
When one thinks of the losses!
One by one they drop
Altitude, single-minded
In their purpose-
Highly motivated,
Trained, as if, from birth,
To meet this destiny.
In the relative vastness
Of the Warscape
They create only a
Tiny explosion each,
As they target, plummet
And Crash!
Who wins, finally?
I've always wondered,
Each time, a small
Winged Creature crashlands
Into the candle's flame
In a continuous stream
For the half hour, during
The nightly power cut
As our verandah becomes
The battlefield, for that war
Between
The Flame and the Kamikaze.
27 June, 2008
Just too good ! the description and the interpretation is to be admired only.
ReplyDeleteKamikaze ,this poem can also be taken as the duality we live with.you never know who wins, when.
Awesome contemplations ma'am..
ReplyDeleteA "thought provocative" one with a million strokes of didactics interlaced..
loved the last stanza..
Who wins, finally?
I've always wondered,
Each time, a small
Winged Creature crashlands
Into the candle's flame
In a continuous stream
For the half hour, during
The nightly power cut
As our verandah becomes
The battlefield, for that war
Between
The Flame and the Kamikaze.
Found this to be a connective link between that little "fly" and our "life"..
Perhaps that "power cut" referring to the dark patches of our life..:)
Liked this immensely ma'am..!
Soumya, thank you... and the insight of your perspective too is very enlightening!
ReplyDeleteBharat, ah! more interpretations! Thanks for the sweet words!