• culpritwords 5w

    Cries of Burnt Chinar

    Rustle of leaves
    Revving of engines
    Mourning in air,
    Clatter of guns around.
    Dusk embraces death so smooth
    This valley now fears sound.

    Burnt Chinar trees,
    Fangs of dark,wide open
    Crimson roads,
    We still wonder when it really happened

    My valley cries
    It dies a thousand deaths
    Nothing left in this heaven now
    It's own trying to save themselves somewhere somehow

    The hole that bullet drilled in his temple
    His open eyes witness to it, he never trembled
    The jehlum breeze is not the way it was
    My hands shiver, can't stop my tears
    As the lanes of my home I quietly surpass
    ©culpritwords