The tentacles of horrid obstacles,
to the destination of peace and harmony,
Our people are slain and maimed,
but alive with no voice to be heard,
Thousands of them are in fear and tear,
when the tentacles of the powerful,
tightened, deserted soil have no water,
babies are still born, not aware of the trouble,
the hurt developed in the hearts is the bomb,
that will explode with no warning and sign,
the tentacles of the unwise thought are villain,
thousands of women widowed in a split second,
tentacles of belief and faith are the noose,
these will not let anyone in peace,
hurting is not the medicine to treat the hurt,
killing is not the remedy to save the life, ,
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A very thought provoking poem shared definitely.10