Poetry

Strange it looks, 
some one crying on winning a race. 
He was o loser and a victor. 
 
After such a long fight, 
what is left on a banished field? 
broken skulls and roaring laughter, 
Everything was crushed under falling snow 
of ruthlessness. 
 
And over the fire hangs a skeleton 
of past. 
The real truth again hides in the 
Survivor’s eyes. 
There is no witness of any crime. 
 
The court adjournd and the symbolists 
rejoice. 
Justice has come for a sale. 
The highest bidder will get the chair 
now 
Now will begin the layered aches 
in heart.