Tuesday, May 2, 2017

A poem torn by WAR

At the edge of my life
Is where I stood
Hopeful were my eyes

Simply then,
Like every fairy tale
There she came, ominous

At her arrival
Horrendous, were the screeches
Of the unborn in the wombs;
Young mothers were scooped of
Their bosoms

On the carcass
Of compassion she stood
With her heels piercing the flesh
Of humankind

Her violin
Zigzagged between
Melody and harmony

At the end of the ballad,
she declared
With three cheers
Peace restored.


Copyright @ Ajay Pai
 02nd May 2017
Image courtesy: Pixabay