WAR: The old man sat there, Shaking and shivering. As he held his fifth bottle of that bitter sweet whiskey, Eyes red and sunken cheeks, The gun had failed him. He looked at his reflection, On the curves of the green bottle. This was not him, He looked at his reflection And a smile, an innocent one, Broadened up on his face. The young man walked out Bursting with energy and love. Somewhere amidst all those personalities He displayed, There was a small child lost, scared and abused, And no one, but him, protected him. Adwait vats#war#adwaitvats#story#google
