Lone Dove Poem by Mahathi Mydavolu

That one last dove was standing on the spire;
with darting eyes and head espying sides!
She kept watching the crackling bones in fire
around the mosque! Is she or not afraid! ?

She never heard such sound nor saw such dense
vapours with noxious smell of nitramine.
It seems she's saved by the bliss of ignorance,
to stay alive to watch that ghastly scene.

An year ago, she broke out of the shell;
on this same spire and this's her home, her world!
Some times she perched on nearby temple bell;
pecked some Prashaad and played with other birds.

And often flew a little far to kiss
the cross on Baptist church and hear the choirs!
She thought, like her, the world was fair with bliss!
Can any God enjoy such cruel satire? !

With fright her claws tightened around the stones.
'Is there a religion to kill, Allah? ! '
She moaned. 'Isn't there one God whom everyone owns! '
The crescent Moon mumbled: 'This's not my law! '