A Last Night

It was a knock that woke me up last night,
A mild, deep and desperate knock;
Leaving my bed I put on my night gown
With great anxiety and a little relief.
It was too late as my brother was out on overtime,
This hour rings a bell with my every step towards the door.

The scintillating moon draws awe
Over the corridor beside the hanging medals;
Collecting my courage before fear
I marched on_

Like those days in France,
A gun in one hand and uncertainty of life on another
I moved forward,
Ignoring the numerous bodies that lie beside me-
Anticipating the same fate with those beneath me-
I moved on_

But today it’s different,
The same feeling but not a battleground this is
I know;
Though more frightening with the dread of
Knowing so little,
What would happen if the person on the other side
Holds a gun on my head;

It is this peace we fought for –
The uncertainty reduces but not the crimes,
More frightening with no selective enemy.
But still, one has to open the door,
Knowing it can’t be the long awaited brother
On the other side – the war was a long ago,
And not a single soul besides me
Except my hollow medals – weights my Home!