Bird of the Red Dusk

In a bittersweet world of bedlam,
Of transient peace and mayhem,
She was a free bird of harmony,
Playing in a chaotic symphony.
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The bird was flying high and wild,
Soaring aross the September sky,
Singing the songs of country life,
Emancipated in the blissful flight.
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She flew over the rocky mountains,
Down the charming river valleys,
Along the green meadows of mist,
Into the enchanting flower alleys.
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Enamoured by the beauty beneath,
& perplexed by the life's miseries,
She got lost in thoughts deep,
Of rationality, conundrums & mysteries.
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The summers of candid joy,
The winters of mystic sorrow,
The autumns of warm love,
The springs of rising distrust.
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The eternal glory of the infinite skies,
The random pattern of the dotted stars,
The grand depths of the mighty oceans,
The shallowness of the human relations.
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The vibrant colors of morning light,
The darkness of the late winter night,
The delightful rains in the hilly terrains,
The thirsty and barren Central plains.
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Her trance did not last too long,
As the thoughts were plundered,
By a roaring vigorous thunder,
To her life's greatest ever wonder.
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An invisible force of shock waves,
Knocked her briefly out of the way,
In a while she regained her poise,
Hurt by the brute power and noise.
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She sighted a monster in grey,
Dashing across the autumn sky,
With the wings of far heaven,
And a smoky trail of cloudy white.
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The monster vanished in a flash,
Zooming into the velvet horizon,
To the utter relief of the bird,
The bird of swaying emotions.
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Brief was the moment of respite,
For she heard an approching noise,
Lot louder than the first one,
And as mysterious as the night.
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The bird of the evening sky,
Was hurled and swept astray,
By the invisible shock waves,
Of a fleet of monsters in grey.
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The sun across the fields,
Was yearning for rest,
While the crimson twilight,
Spread its hue in the West.
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She mumbled her prayers in hurry,
Too overwhelmed to reason over,
And too frightened to think about,
The goal of the monsters of fury.
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Flashes erupted in the moonlit night,
When missiles darted in the dim light,
Programmed to write the history in red,
As she witnessed the fearsome plight.
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A shrilling sound...A destructive thunder...
A storm of dust...A bloody surrender...
A world massacred...Humanity in pain...
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Cries of agony....Rantings in vain...
Happy homes of yore...Razed and gutted...
Joyful voices of land...Down and muted ...
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Changing her homeward course,
In search of a distant abode,
She kept flying with the memories,
In the winds of an elusive hope.
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While a radio in the dark valley,
Was playing the war song of folly.
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"...A few days of blitzkreig,
Endless years of pain,
A few minds of sadism,
An eternity of shame..."