Mourning the Unknown
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Once
Someone
Took a syringe
And injected into
Veins
Their own blood
And infested livers
And spleens.
Soon innocence
Was butchered
Guitars shuddered
Voice fluttered
Fluids spluttered.
Then came fire balls
Eyes were gouged.
Lullabies muffled
With snow white
Coffin cloths
Little lips
Fumbled for
Blood smeared
nipples.
Rotten flesh
Oozed apart from skeletons
In mass graves.
Vultures
Sat upon
Smelly bellies
While
Empty platters
filled with saltless tears
Tumbled from
Crumbled buildings
.
Sir,
Isn't it a creation?
Or is it
Mere hallucination?
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A. Nazar
9539171866
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem