Beyond The Pink Horizon: A War Lords Elegy Poem by Somendra Gaur

Train moves, instilling torrents of anxiety in the man,
And the one who is here to bid him adieu, part of the plan.
He watches a girl with a balloon, her finger heart she shows,
He feels his throat dry, a sense of unease grows.
A mineral water vendor walks past in his view,
He thinks he'll stop the next one, his parched lips pursue.

He pulls out his diary, a fresh page to read,
'It's time to morph, the unloved warlord shall move alone indeed.'

He turns the page and writes with a heavy heart,
'The road where trees with pink flowers impart,
Their shade over me as I walked in their embrace,
A palanquin of petals, a peaceful place.'

Thinking too many things, he nods with lips sealed tight,
The train moves, his wounds now out of sight.
Maybe this time, they won't heal as before,
As he journeys onward, forever changed at his core.