Wednesday, December 17, 2014

The blood on your hands


Not very far from the border which was once manned by many, then my father, now my brother
Dreams were killed, bullets were sprayed, life of one was claimed by another
Little hands of a great tomorrow are no longer busy and no longer pink
They lay in coffins of wood and cotton.

 

One like the many was woken early by a mother ‘you must go to school, my dear”
“Ma, just one more wink, please can I stay back today”, said the little one and let slide one tear
No my child the sun is up, the future is yours, the canvas is white for your paint
So wake up, walk out, and embrace the world.

 

Another one asked a father, can we draw the sky and in them some birds
Yes my child, why not said he as he laid out for the little on some bread some yogurt
While the mother was laying out the clothes for the shrine we all call school
You see she is a teacher of those little souls to guide them through

 

O believer what is your belief that makes you wake up one fine day
Not to serve humanity but to slay
If you were not wronged, then how could you so many innocents to death lay?
If you were, was there no thirst to heal, to love, to live, to stay?

 

You of my belief, you so called Muslim, what is this god you pray
I don’t know because the one I do says love and prosper, give and take
You chose to be blind you chose to be a blot
You have no Allah you have no god

1 comment:

Sweety said...

Yes, they don't believe in Allah or God :(