The Silver River

The symphonies of birds
On the cherry tree,
And the blooming of flowers
On the mountain free.

~on the contrary~

The flowing streams
Harboring the source,
Did not come
From no remorse...

Wars had erupted;
Lives were lost;
What was learnt then,
Cannot be taught.

~Let us flip through the pages of this land~

The bearers of this land,
once united.
Owned by friends,
Later divided.

The first, a young man,
Tall and thin; modest and strong.
Black hair, long and straight;
Eyes as silver as polished slate.

The second, young too,
More or less, the same.
But his eyes were golden
Like a lions mane.

They lived at peace,
Crimes overthrown,
But what happened next,
Could not have been known.

Dead was a member
Of the lions pride,
But the killer knew
That he could not hide.

The killer already known,
Alpha males sixth sense...
It was silvers brother,
But why...?

~soon they meet~

Now, the time has come...
A war has begun.
What determines victory?
Is it pride? Or maybe, dignity?

They meet at the border
A humble river,
Clear as the innocence of the land they stood upon.

~3....2....1....~

The fight has concluded
Vengeance was attained,
Benefits were gained
But a friend was slain.

The velvet blanket,
Padding the land,
Dyeing the river,
In which he stands.

Sorrow on his face;
Sword in its case;
The moon shining bright;
Silver tears on his face.

~he walks away~

Here we are,
Peace remains untouched
The river drained
Streams of silver obtained.

The symphonies of birds
On the cherry tree,
And the blooming of flowers
On the mountain free.

~Ronit Sehgal
@bardofthewind (Instagram)