The Dark Night Poem by Nishant Rawlley

The Dark Night



A night to be dreaded it was,
A sad meloncholy night,
A night that saw blood and tears,
A dark night indeed...

A few men with guns and bombs,
Enter a five star hotel and open-fire on the ppl,
Killing hundreds of lives, innocent lives,
And then starts a war,
Another blood-written page of war in india's history,
For seventy hours,
The mumbai police puts in every inch of their blood and soul,
To finish off these men,
It was by no means easy,
Those seventy hours of time were marred by the sound of gunshots and blood stains...
Salutes to Kirkire and his men,
But for them, we know not,
How many more would have died.

Kasab, if only i could ask you,
What is it that you and your men want?
What did you have against those innocent ppl,
That they deserved death?
You have no answer,
You have no reason,
Nothing justifies the killing of man by man...


But why do i shriek and wail?
A billion strong India sat in their cozy quilts
Enjoying coffee and the prime-time story,
Ending it with a two minute silence,
A two minute silence for a seventy hour bloodshed,
And went to sleep...
Not a thought was stirred,
Not a voice raised, Not a question asked...
India is sleeping...

Tomorow it could be you or me, Ending up as just another name on the casualty list,
It would make no difference,
The whole thing would become the prime story for a day,

But ask the mother who's only son went for a dinner but never returned,
Ask the brother who's sister went partying and was shot dead,
Ask the son who lost his parents,
And now multiply it by hundreds...

And they've reduced it to '26/11'...

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