The Conflict Tragedy
The winds blow strongly addressing to you
Where are you?
How many mothers are craving for you to be back in their wombs
So that they can protect you
How many sisters are hankering for your presence
So that their wedding looks elegant
How many fathers and brothers who searched with holiest meditations fed themselves descended
We searched and searched there was no clue
But we knew you were taken by those barbaric people
Who still fulfil their protruding belly with your innocent blood
How much the dynamic soil will bear, its filthen
Who blames whom does it matter?
All we loose is our loved ones
And I guess, for us all that matters.