A day after the bloody fair,
I walk the sands of the square,
In search of my loving mother,
Father, sister, and missing brother.
The ground is still wet and sore,
From yesterday’s blood and gore.
Still the morning air with cries is rent,
Of men, women and children innocent.
Wade I through an ocean of corpses,
Bloody, dismembered, maimed and lifeless.
A severed limb here, a shattered skull there,
It’s blood, bones, skin, and gore everywhere.
I sit in the middle of the open graveyard,
A child, a sibling, and somebody’s ward.
Find not my loving kith and kin,
Rendered orphan, I know not my sin.
Pranced I, merrily, with my family,
Lost them yesterday to himsa dastardly.
Did not crave it, did not ask for it,
Still, to me, the magnanimous served it.
Achieved not anything, the bullet did,
Conquered not anything, the bomb did.
With sickening regularity repeats the himsa,
Alas! The world forgets the apostle of ahimsa.
‘Do unto others as you would have them do unto you’,
Remember not this Golden Rule, the world does.
Created with insouciant indifference to humanity,
The gun, the bullet, the bomb, and nuclear insanity.
Humanity disappears, humaneness vanishes from lexicon,
Charity is charred, and blown away is compassion.
The unknown cause marches on, on innumerable corpses,
Diabolical goal unachieved, over mutilated bodies lifeless.
Wake up, oh unfeeling world! Where art thou headed?
Can you rule over populace maimed and dead?
Differentiate and distinguish between wrong and right,
Help me spread peace and move from darkness to light.