Ghosts Of Your War

What do you write when all that your heart can offer is radio silence.
In between the frequencies, listen and search
for the lost words that were swallowed up by oceans.
Don’t look for them on the surface.
I never trusted the wind.
I was far too much in love with it, you see.
Verses got off the train home and dug themselves a shallow grave.
Sometimes, usually after midnight,
they scratch the headstones of the past when they call me up
and tell me they miss me.
Wars make soldiers out of poets.
I’ve found a gun in an empty diary in the drawer.
Maybe we’ll need it when ghosts crawl inside our chests and call it home.
Close your eyes and pretend
that it’s ten years ago from now.
Go back to the time when you didn’t believe in ghosts.
Go back to the time when you didn’t need to believe in ghosts.


This post is a promise I made to a friend. I am forgetful and sometimes things are too overwhelming, so I have been terribly tardy in fulfilling this promise.
But here it is, and I hope he likes it.

Also,Happy New Year everyone.
I know it’s a bit late, but perhaps the excuses I made above will make up for this too.

I thank you for reading till the end of this post, and I hope your resolutions of this year get to see the dawn of another. But don’t fret much if they don’t. If you’ve been able to keep them the past week, you’re better off than most.

Until We Meet Again.


6 thoughts on “Ghosts Of Your War

  1. this is a lovely poem, a nice tribute to your friend. Your striking images of melancholy and the ghosts of wars past. Indeed poets do become soldiers, and the reverse can also be true. Some thoughts are far better expressed by poetry than with prose…. 🙂

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