Asavri
The Ashes of Flesh
While his companions rested in the safe,
He stood on the balcony looking at an angle of 180 degrees.
He reloaded the gun and rushed to the safe,
Screaming, “They’re going to attack!”
Suddenly there was this hustle in the house,
The sound of the guns being reloaded,
The weapons being sorted.
And there his lover stepped on the balcony,
In a satin white dress and open hair.
“Pure beauty…,” his body was numb for a second.
She shot him right through his heart,
With no weapons, with no words.
He pushed her back into the basement.
Could never kiss her.
And then he fought the enemy.
The deafening sounds of humans screaming in pain,
Of God’s paint being splashed on the walls,
The stream of God’s paint – Blood on the roads.
After five of his friends and the enemies died,
He had won over the enemy.
But what victory was it?
He went to the basement,
Sad to see,
His lover had been killed already.
He went to the terrace,
Looked at all the black ashes flying in the twilight sky,
And he screamed at the moon.
In pain. The never-ending pain.
Asavri Dhillon
2017-07-20
D.O.B: June 18, 1998
