The fall of spring

 The fall of spring 

The conch breaks his sonorous silence 

That has so far echoed an ocean within

And bursts to trumpet the fresh bout

The dripping red on the sword edge 

Lit on the forehead before the spell

While fear makes way on the field

Swift as a slithering serpent in hay stack

Amidst the bravado of foe battalions 

They challenge and extend their hand 

Only to fold back the trembling arms 

When fire consumes the entire hay 

The serpent has already left the ashes

Into the fresh foliage to their peril. 

Such is the fear of this forever prince 

When he springs from banks to peak

His golden crown dazzles in the day

Covers the nascent red of his dawn

Just now he has fallen into a crevice

Landing with a wrong foot on a crack

The weakness of thundering ground 

Traps the roar within thumping chest 

The crown falls apart into the dusty land

That turns dark slowly from pale mud

Into a gory bed that expands like shadow

A fountain from the skull Dampens His might

The dusk smiles at his paling shade 

The strands of silver reflect the concealed moon

With a breath to catch his dimming beat 

The terminus of an eventful day 

The spread out bed that beckons 

A tired soul to rest in peace .

Delhi

2038

1.20 hrs 

8.1.23