Aneek Chatterjee writes

Valley of the Dead

 

He wanted to be a tree

muddy river uncertain streams

hollow clouds, failed dreams

did not dare to be free

Wished to smell the sky

and feel the whites of snow

heard noble folks die

let us move a bit slow  

Crimson red peeped in the sun

all meadows turned red

rivers flowed into the valley of dead

let us cheer the gun    

Red Valley -- Caroline Ashwood