Garden of Pains
Sometimes tears have to drop
But too many tears turn into blood
Oh Kashmir my beloved land
Your earth has turned into red-colored sand
In it, you have buried so many boys
Innocent, young still playing with toys
But their little hearts have turned into men.
So fast before they had a chance to begin
A life like other men with family and kin
Born into their own land they face persecution
And live their lives full of confusion
Oh little boy playing with sand
Shot dead from snipers in your own land
Mother’s tears fall like razor sharp
Penetrating down deep with permanent scars
Oh world wake up our mother screams
Another atrocity with holocaust fears
Peace has been written in Rainbow colours
And doves are praying for all the mothers.
*The author is a student of Political Science and Pursuing Convergent Journalism. He can be reached at email@example.com
Disclaimer: Views expressed are exclusively personal and do not necessarily reflect the position of Oracle Opinions.