The drones of the Kamikaze
Cause ripples in the silence
After nightfall.
The season starts again
When War is waged;
One sided really
When one thinks of the losses!
One by one they drop
Altitude, single-minded
In their purpose-
Highly motivated,
Trained, as if, from birth,
To meet this destiny.
In the relative vastness
Of the Warscape
They create only a
Tiny explosion each,
As they target, plummet
And Crash!
Who wins, finally?
I’ve always wondered,
Each time, a small
Winged Creature crashlands
Into the candle’s flame
In a continuous stream
For the half hour, during
The nightly power cut
As our verandah becomes
The battlefield, for that war
Between
The Flame and the Kamikaze.
27 June, 2008
A Quest on Overdrive ... :) 
June 28, 2008 at 6:00 pm
Just too good ! the description and the interpretation is to be admired only.Kamikaze ,this poem can also be taken as the duality we live with.you never know who wins, when.
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June 28, 2008 at 6:32 pm
Awesome contemplations ma’am..A “thought provocative” one with a million strokes of didactics interlaced..loved the last stanza..Who wins, finally?I’ve always wondered,Each time, a smallWinged Creature crashlandsInto the candle’s flameIn a continuous streamFor the half hour, duringThe nightly power cutAs our verandah becomesThe battlefield, for that warBetweenThe Flame and the Kamikaze.Found this to be a connective link between that little “fly” and our “life”..Perhaps that “power cut” referring to the dark patches of our life..:)Liked this immensely ma’am..!
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November 22, 2008 at 11:33 am
Soumya, thank you… and the insight of your perspective too is very enlightening!Bharat, ah! more interpretations! Thanks for the sweet words!
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