Rubble Of Woes

The auburn heap of men,
Lay beneath me.
The moon perfectly round,
Shone beautifully.

 

 

The amazing fireworks,
Went on through the day.
The gorgeous spectacle of human power,
Did astound me again.

 

 

Gorgeous, lovely kids piled over each other;
Mine, lay on top.
His hand was found a few steps away,
His leg maybe lost.

It was wonderful, the scene around,
All one could see was rubble,
Oh, and piles of humans all black and brown,
The powerful, mighty being.

 

 

Our fate was decided, the day we were born here,
Our destinies etched in stone by the powerful ones,
We’re sorry for your 130,
Our thousands meet them everyday.

 

 

We’re extremely sorry for the bad fish,
All stale heaps of us are,
Carry on with the fireworks, please.
Don’t mind my senseless blabber.

 

 

My family of four apologized;
One and a half will too,
The explosions of vengeance consumed them,
They are now a part of heaped troops.

 

Oh heartbeat in my womb,
Oh! Victim of cowardice,
Be proud my child for you are not
A victim of revenge.

 

 

Better be murdered in womb,
Than be called collateral damage,
Better die inside a coward mother,
Than in another doom.

 

 

The stinking, disgusting heap of dead men,
Rotting beneath me,
The moon ashamed to look at it
Shining beautifully.

 

~ Tanya Kaur  | Edited by Afreen Zeb

 

 


Image Courtesy: www.pixabay.com


 


 

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