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