It was a hungry cannon.
It had ripped many lives apart.
Forged death into villages and towns.
Who would travel more than it did?
People talked their senses when it geared its wheels.
It was a brutal imagination.
Into the wildest fantasy.
A fantastic concept.
Conception of murder, death.
violence followed by fear.
It had made people swear.
promise and commit the unusual.
The popular belief of staying young.
The fantasy of growing up.
Both met their ends.
It swallowed a kilo of stone.
Fired in the rain while the drops fell.
It left behind the ambers of burnt land.
Everyone halted their hearts.
Stared into the destructed city.
Smoke everywhere and the tragedy repeated.
The cannon moaned.
The cries of homes felt.
The ravish sound reverbrated.
The old man looked all these and assumed.
The nature might have cried.
The poor one thought this as the cleansing of souls.
The regular feed for the unsatisfied and angry.
The savage had cost them a millenium.
The milleneum of a good fortune.
Of time and sunsets.
Of changes due to come.
Everyone praised the almighty.
