Images of the past,

broken and some whole;

Memories made to last,

burnt on to a roll.

Stories saved in print,

colors from the past;

Silence in the night

and sunshine in the dark.

Death and chaos around,

the tears of a mother;

Shadows in a shutter

tales for one-another.

Hunger, pain and sadness

and all the world’s rust;

Shared in naked glory

feeding the camera’s lust.

Life in death, and creation

that may have lingered in thought;

Line our walls in darkness,

mirrors to battles once fought.

By: Viraj Belgaonkar