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The Whimpering Soul
Thousands of sirens blare from far,
Terror stricken is each face that appears.
The air smells of dead,
From loads of bloodshed.
Splitted bodies, abandoned bags,
Shoes from a child's leg,
Are scattered in every step.
The cries and wails are unbearable,
Faces covered in blood are unrecognisable.
Her mom cooked her favourite dish,
She never knew it would turn to be her daughter's last wish.
Shameless and heinous is the act,
They call it Jihad as a matter of fact.
Is Jihad killing the old and young?
Is Jihad display of negativity strong?
What have we done?
Where did we go wrong?
The city is ruined,
And the laughter is gone.
Our souls now quiver,
At the thought of the next tremor.
A part of me is now broken,
My conscience has gone weak,
o'Jihadis! Tell me, is this what you call freedom?
Tell me, is this what you seek?
© Arpita
Terror stricken is each face that appears.
The air smells of dead,
From loads of bloodshed.
Splitted bodies, abandoned bags,
Shoes from a child's leg,
Are scattered in every step.
The cries and wails are unbearable,
Faces covered in blood are unrecognisable.
Her mom cooked her favourite dish,
She never knew it would turn to be her daughter's last wish.
Shameless and heinous is the act,
They call it Jihad as a matter of fact.
Is Jihad killing the old and young?
Is Jihad display of negativity strong?
What have we done?
Where did we go wrong?
The city is ruined,
And the laughter is gone.
Our souls now quiver,
At the thought of the next tremor.
A part of me is now broken,
My conscience has gone weak,
o'Jihadis! Tell me, is this what you call freedom?
Tell me, is this what you seek?
© Arpita
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