Chaotic beauty named Triumph

They fought like hawks on their own dead corpse,
A torn page from history, when it was all about mist and mystery,
it was the time when life is gambled and youth was whored.

Where power is a slavery
and every Brutus a beneficiary
when difference had definitions,
it's where legends perished,
when only the conspirers are those who prospered.

That was the time when a beauty was imposed
which has never ever been posed,
It was a never satisfying mirage of thirst named immortality
Consumed Achilles, Alexander, Ashok and their mortality
It was the time when swords carved history and ink changed its colour.

Everyone failed to fill the colour in those carving of the swords
Even the painter felt like a spectator in front of his own art.

They got what they wanted, a undisputed immortality somewhere in the chapters of last known page within a lost history.
It was a time when courage had faces ambitions had boundaries
Those were the time of chaotic beauty called the triumph

The Forgotten Promise.

Three days back his father taught him to shave,
soon he will be the one returning the favour promise he said.

Some said it was just another propaganda, so did the rumours grew
but the next day those were the real bullets that flew.

Some cried, few wept, and then surrendered themselves to fate
others were asked to have some faith.

It was over for them, that was the outcome of the first wave.
for rest the ocean still awaits.

he hadn't moved for the last 12 hours, still, his heart beated
like the horse in that final race,
even when breathing he still suffocated

A nameless face asked him if he has someone, who still waits
a long pause ...

it was amazing, for a second that he could've thought of anything, could've done anything, could've have been anyone, would've been anywhere, wished for anything.
but now

he wanted to give everything just to have a few seconds nap on his father lap while his mother applied some
oil on his feet, she always said it's good for a sound sleep.

Breaking the silence the nameless man continued,
that his wife died but the war didn't even let him grief,,
over everything he still wants to fight reason best known to him.

Meanwhile

He waited for the second wave, not sure, if he is ready to face his final fate
one pull and two rounds that's all the war he knew
334 days of training just for five minutes of chaos.

It felt like that nameless face can actually see through his dying heart,

he asked him to say sorry to his father in return he promised that he will say hello to his better half.
In those final moments, he had everything but wanted nothing,

it wasn't an awakening nether it was enlighting,
it was hope
that whispered him, what's next if he sees through it
and he is still hoping
Hoping he gently made it to sound sleep