Whispers
Aug 24, 2017 · 1 min read

Trying to say some words
His lips mumbled
Upper one trying to touch the other
The pain was unending.
As he uttered a word
To another.
Sounds slow as a pin drop
Whispering
The words
He wanted to say.
Blood stained clothes
And the hands reaching the wound
The sounds clear in the bloodshed
As he dies for the nation
Like others.
You can hear
A thousand whispers
Talking about the wars.
The martyrs
The freedom fighters
Gathered around their graveyard
A drop of water
A mumbling sound
For the motherland
Cries now.

