Bristles Of War. Poem by Richa Tiwari Joshi

I sit here under the warm winter sun, flicking through the pages of the memoir of your pain,
i see the hungry bellys, and sins on the name of God,
I can't reach you there but your agony and cries of pain haunt me all the while,
I am desperate to help so I just close my eyes, fold my hands and ask my lord to grant you peace, love and harmony.
I pray that all the bristles of war heal as a cold winter pass by.
I have never been to your land but we share the same Sun and the Moon.
Today I offfer the dropp of tear to my lord to free you from pain and I know my wish would be granted.
I know your streets would be full of life again, I know you will return to where you belong.
For once all the demons of fear will burn in the divine fire of love and humanity will dance till the eternity.