The silent pictures hanging
in vivid flashes of black and white;
A hundred fading figures
of a million epic tales.
Each beautiful moment, frozen in a frame
--- a snapshot of a timeless jewel;
Even the times when darkness reigned,
images were bound with iron hold.
The torture of the oppressed and
aftermath of a battlefield,
are as worthy of a reminiscent
as the parade of the victor
and when the beacon was ignited.
The cries of a fallen soldier,
the scars of the lone survivor,
holds as much significance as
the union of two old lovers and
birth of one new fighter.
Thy banner be waving in war or in glory,
A flag caging the flames or unleashing the fire,
Fall hard to the doom and bounce back even higher
--- it's all preserved in the heart of history.
When the day comes and my mind fogs---
My memory fades with forgotten stories;
The photographs in these walls,
Will have the chronicles reborn.
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