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