Sunday, 25 December 2011


another bomb-blast
like the wind, it came so fast
trapping us in an old mesh
making our old wounds fresh

when will it end
we are finding it hard to fend
as we live trying never to hate
but that seems to be our fate

we try to make peace
but we end up piece by piece
we know no longer where to start
as we can’t but part

we are in distress
passing through stress
trying to express
our agony, as our injuries  we dress

we lament
lying in torment
as our families are now gone
and we’ve become lone

alone, we are in a crowd
we are no longer proud
we are dying just by lying
with eyes wide open sighing

No comments:

Post a Comment