Tag Archives: blood

White Vs Red

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Winter night was young

In the concert hall I was among

Everyone seated in a row so calm

Awaiting moments were so charm

Slowly the heavenly music surge in

Transporting the mood in full swing

All the poems escaped from my clutch

Hugging all musical notes of bunch

 

Suddenly bullets started flying

With aggression of war planes prying

It torn fleshes with ghastly vengeance

Making bloody fountain of arrogance

Some lucky breathed the last instantly

While some held as hostages constantly

The unlucky ones lay badly wounded

Facing death in the hour of terror bounded

 

I was one of the few unhurt physically

In world’s eye I am one of obvious lucky.

True!  I escaped the targeted horrid attack

Yet none of the bullets missed the aim or tact.

They pierced aptly many hearts and souls of

And the so called lucky ones like me thereof

Though wounds are invisible and lacks blood stain

But bleeding profusely gifting an eternal pain

 

I wonder where we are heading..

Whether we are led or misleading?

Does ‘Red’ of blood so tempting

Or ‘White’, the colour of peace so disgusting?

 

Seamless evolution from human to beast

Massacre of innocence, the revolution of feast.

Masked human’s hobby in ghostly attire

Outburst of carnage but not a satire.

 

Each moment we live with fear is not life but death

For psychotic to adorn with bullet wreath.

How long peacemaking slogans survive?

And whom we are waiting for us to drive?

 

Until we dare to re-wire the system with wisdom

Harmony can’t be reign in life’s kingdom..

Until we remain coward and show tolerance

We will witness more tragedies with intolerance.

 

© Maaya Dev 2016 Jan

 

 

 

 

 

Their War

Ear-shattering lullabies
And muted cries,
Smoke-veiled skies
And unsaid goodbyes –
Were yours and mine
Since we opened our eyes.

In ruins we played,
Where once people prayed
And love was portrayed,
When peace had stayed –
These are yours and mine,
The memories so frayed.

Food bags with bombs,
The roads our own tombs,
Dear lives in wombs,
Seeking refuge in roofless rooms –
This page is yours and mine,
Which drowns, drains and dooms.

I remember how you’d cried
When the bad boy had pried
Away your doll’s limb; I tried –
I gave you my doll’s; your tears dried-
This loss is yours and mine,
Your legs, my arms; hopes’ve died.

Peace smiled from afar,
Like a delusional star,
Everything that was, is now char,
Blood looks like dried tar –
That stain is yours and mine,
Our forgotten life, their celebrated war.