Path to Death
Some puny feet trample over the decayed mosques,
Dusty, muddy, tiny feet- inked with dried blood,
They keep walking over lifeless hands, stiffed little fingers,
Treads on more little feet, inert feet.
‘Look, that’s Rafaa!’ says one little soul.
His eyes pointing at a corpse of a baby,
Ashy face, bloodless cheeks,
‘Rafaa!’ cried the little one, ‘my brother!’.
The sky shakes with deafening bang.
Gust of sand and reek of burnt flesh,
Another mosque it was,
Yet again, ashy, bloodless corpse.
The graveyards are crowding with time,
All have mass of flesh in their hands,
Little ashy, bloodless faces,
Swathed in dirty white cloth.
Puny feet are rambling again,
Over the skeletons of the edifices,
And sallow, cold cadavers,
Before the dooming sun.
My heart gets saddened when when I images like this everywhere, in newspapers and in social networking sites. I used to think that the people in the world are mature enough to make peace and live with brotherhood, but what I see is insanity. A nation that targets innocent children to gain something, cannot gain anything. My heart goes out for the people in Gaza who were targeted for nothing. May their souls rest in peace.