What colour is it?
A wounded badge; stained clothes,
half dead souls of yours and mine
the child’s cry, or the mother’s agony.
Imparting pain to thy brother.
Its bleeding red...
What colour is it?
For a soldier’s last breath
seeking peace, heaven and God.
Someone asking him to walk that alley,
turn left and climb the winding staircase
to the Father, pleading for forgiveness.
Alas! It’s too late
to knock on heaven’s door.
It’s serene white.
What colour is it?
A lil bird’s flapping wings painting the sky
or the sad woman’s state of mind?
Shades which follow through the day
and sink in quietly at night.
The colour of life;
infinite and impalpable.
It’s blue.
What colour is it?
The scorching heat of a summer wave
or the interminable greed for gold?
The spark in the eye of a young lad
or the morning’s colour that unfolds?
It’s gleaming yellow.
What colour is it?
The colour of the smoke from guns
or the colour of devastation?
The colour of holes left behind
by incessant firing of bullets.
The colour of death in the name of valour.
The colour of the cloud that descends.
Yes! I can see the cloud,
it’s black.
