Solitary-Poet

Camera mounted on dashboards
Capturing twists and turns,

Emblems on once shiny metal warriors,

Cruising boulevards, 

Strutting peacocks, now sand caked war machines,

Shattered windshields, the only shield

Window to a relentless landscape,

A world eating itself up from within. 
Kaleidoscopic bits and bytes,

A journal put together,

A story – 

Of twisted mortar, bent steel rods,

Toppled antennas, once the apex of civilization

Torn shreds of satin, nylon and silk,

Adornments of a land or

Perhaps shards left from a beauty

That walked and laughed on jeweled streets. 
Rapid changes in course,

Avoiding collisions is second nature,

Fueling swirling sand dunes,

Avoiding, perhaps a small boulder

Or an gelatinous mix of c4, cordite,

Locked in a stopwatch, 

Device counting its own end,

Ready to record,

Gods of past and god men of today,

Chanting their death dance.
Woman covered in a black robe

Death shroud hiding everything

Remnants of a once flowering soul

Only visible through sandy impressions

Left by the soles of her calloused feet. 

A sand covered black shroud 

Lost in the timeless dunes forming

And vanishing in an instant.
Her image- the only silhouette on a street,

Once a jostling market,

Now an empty burnt structure. 

Her footsteps – the only echo on a street,

Once a musical haven, for singers 

Wishing to listen to their songs,

Echoing of yearning walls and souls,

Now just –

Silent echoes of empty streets,

Silent remnants and holders of empty memories,

Of Gods, god men and men,

Done with their deathly dance.