The ticking of clock, lured
Music emanated, camouflaged, intermittent
From behind the mountains-
Through the ravaged roads
Amid the houses razed
The trail of the hidden, it was no great treasure
Or a mystery murder-
Half cooked food lay, stuck to the vessels
The rest, strewed on the ground
Fanned from above, waiting to be served-
As if the sea had bared
It’s soul, now calmed, after the storm
The crying had stopped, long ago-
The horror stood, statued, a daze
That rose and fell, lingered, in oblivion
Leaving it to Time, to lay it’s claim
On the story, yet to finish
A ceasefire, that seemed untimely-
Between
Armenia and Azerbaijan.