Zahid Mantoo

Bridge of hope crippled

Bridge of hope crippled
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Chilly gusts of hot wind,
roaming in search of blood.
The bridge of hope crippled
On the bridge of no return.
And the echoed mountain
rocks slide
by wailing sounds.
After bloodshed,
hundreds laid down
blood oozing
wreathing in pain.
Lift them
to drink a single drop.
Some jumped
and drowned into “Chuntkul”.
Thumping sound of troopers boots
and chirping sound of frightened birds.
“Wani’s”” face burned by hot ash
and charcoal of broken “Kangri”.
The piece of land,
nestled in the Himalayas
where blood soaked shoes
are hugged tightly.
©Zahma
The poet, having pen name Zahma, can be reached at mantoozahid1@gmail.com.

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