Let's End this with Peace
Many people were knocked down, due to the explosion of bombs in their town.
The towns were flooding tears, drifting away their quiet land.
Buildings, schools, and aid rooms were disrupted and destroyed.
The ground was screaming for help, that later became the bed of their lifeless body.
They fought hard,
but wasn't able to make it.
Their pain lurks unseen,
shattering hopes and dreams.
They breathed the air that witnessed the echoes of continuous gunshots.
The rain was intensely afraid, for there were imitators who were showering bullets.
The sky saw the unpleasant scenery, until the night drew near.
As ambushes covered the night, unfolding blood in each wall.
Behind the closed door,
was a rattling folks.
They feared the knocks,
and feet that may come pass by.
Many civilians were terminated at night, not given them even a little chance to see the setting sun.
Some went into the well, but were thrown with a grenade and their bodies grind into pieces.
Some escaped,
But once caught,
their life would be out of the lists.
Lots of innocence were dragged.
Injured, devastated, and fractured.
Some just started to encounter life.
But it seemed their lives were meant to depart early on earth.
Victims, who were stuck in between.
Whispered to the whirling wind,
"Please, until tomorrow, let us live."
Children burst out of tears, seeing their parents laying on their own flesh and blood.
The heart was gripped by fear.
Leaving a trail of sorrow and threats on the road.
Darkness devoured the people,
but amidst it all, a light remained.
When rescuers arrive, their hope becomes alive.
They became one,
Standing strong and proud.
"We will not leave this land where we were born and raised. Allow our bodies to decay on this ground we stand. If this is our last breath, this is also our last vestige."
Time could only tell when the victim's wounds would heal.
But don't transform this land into the worst nightmare of our young seeds.
Let's end this with peace.
YOU ARE READING
Under The Casket Of Hatred And Oppression
PoetryThese short poems ideas flow from my emotional self. They arrive the same way as dreams do. So always I begin with a head empty of words and let my feelings go flow. Read at your own Discretion
