The Aftermath Bliss Poem by Vartika Pandey

The remnants of the gone storms
Remind us of the deeds done wrong
We collect the ashes of our lost faith
Bury the pieces of our fading songs.

We forget the barren lands we made
Carefully composed with wars and hate
The blood shed on the desert sands
Never resurfaces, calls us with disgrace.

Had there been a thousand rains
I would sow flowers to heal the pain
There would be foliage and songs would come
Would come to ornate the ravages again.

There would have been realm of peace
The joy and delight that all seek
I would light up a hundred candles at night
The dark would never ruin our feast.

We would love and love and prayers send
By butterflies and birds as our omens
Each moment would have been written in gold
Oh! Our spring would never end!

I would let go of wars that get no aim
That slay our souls for trifle gain
And I would sow flowers to heal the pain
Had there been a thousand rains

Alas! The rains never came
To wash away the untold stains
My flowers dry and bloom again
With winter winds like devil’s chains

So I stare at heavens and seek the might
That rains may come to take our plight

I will keep waiting they come or don’t
You call it my cognizance or disdain
I’ll never lose hope for an aftermath bliss
And will carry my flowers, even if in vain...


When there will be a thousand rains
I’ll sow flowers and heal the pain
I’ll heal the pain...

© Vartika Pandey
EMBER OF DREAMS