Of rhymes and embellishments.

And faults without punishments.

Of false hopes and reveries,

A dream of life without miseries.

In a world so far far away,

Not governed by power and currency,

There we shall meet halfway.

Which is not yours nor mine,

Far from just fair and fine.

Out of holds of the hands,

Of ticking clock and slipping sand.

And no longer bound by the restraints

Of bigoted world and moralistic saints.

From there we shall pick up

The scattered pieces of us,

And resume our story.

In the beachside house,

The picture of which,

I still carry in my pocket.

One with blue window frames

Overlooking the deep blue sea 

Buried deep within it lies

All the tales and dreams,

Stories that have sunken deep

Of thousands who have tried

To save the country and died

If you sit by the shore,

You can hear their cries

Their loved one's wailing.

The waters carry a song

The echoes of their yearning,

They still lie afloat.

My beloved, for you and I

The story will be unlike.

For our sake, somehow stay alive,

Hold strong to our memories.

Something beautiful will emerge

From rubbles and the debris,

Of broken cities and ruined ports,

The remnants of the war,

Will soon be repainted,

And one day bring glory.

Until then you hold on.

When all of these is over, 

And the end marks the beginning,

I shall fulfill my promise,

And return back home to you.

~After having read and watched quite many of documentaries and movies on war, I have realized the futility of it. The price we pay for our hunger for power and dominance over the others. It blinds us, drives us crazy, corrupts our compassion and morality, awakens the monster in us and turns us into each other's enemy. War destroys a nation and the following generations. It brings death and disharmony. Misery and destruction of humankind. Thousands of men, women and children martyred and killed, either on the battlefields or by bombings. When husbands, brothers, fathers and fiances leave their home to fight for the glory without the certainty of returning back again to home, to their loved ones, it weighs heavy. Likewise women and children caters for the wounded, takes up responsibility of earning before they are ready while surviving in misery. They say that only the dead has seen the end of a war and I think it is true. When and if you survive it, it will scar you so deep you will never come out of it as the same person. A part of you will die, a part of you will be newly found. This poem is inspired by one particular movie called "Atonement", which touched me deeply, so I decided to convey it in verse. In case you have watched it too, you'll get the reference of the beachside house and a promise that remained unfulfilled...