Here, this smudge of blood,
Of a tender boy of eleven,
Soaked thru the tarmac,
Yet to be dried, still wet and warm!
An innocent young lad,
Fades-in my mind,
Your bag! Your bag!
Picking up a shopping bag,
Shouting and chasing the biker,
Who slings the bag into the crowd,
And cruises at a high speed.
Shouting repeatedly in vain,
Albeit he ran a bit far away from the crowd,
Your Bag! Your Bag!
Still shouting...
Oh! Sudden, the shopping bag explodes
Shredding in to pieces, the poor boy.
Scattering around his fresh flesh all over.
"My son! " "My son! "
The horror stricken mother gasps.
Dreadfully aloud and running to the spot,
Where her son has been ripped,
Plight of the mother is tearful.
Compassions and rancours surge up,
Cries and sighs of the shocked crowd, aghast.
Mother out of sense of mind,
Insanely hasten gathering,
Of her only beloved son's tender bod.
Warm blood dripping fleshes, broken skul,
Clasping to her bosom
"Oh! My Son, My Son. '
Weeping and wailing with a grief uncontrollable,
Caving into the pool of blood…sans...consciousness. ……………………………………………………
……………………………………………………
Appalling brutality and the terror,
Of evil minds, will get over when?
Open your eyes, empathize,
NO reward of Heaven, for shedding the innocent blood.
NO reward of Heaven, for this distress of mothers.
What remains is just this smudge of blood…
Really it's a touching one. blood steaming lines............wonderful, Nooredeen ji.
Great imagery...reads like it might make a better short story :)
That is a very powerful piece of poetry you have there, I like the emphasis on his innoncence, sorry its taken me over a year to get back to you :)
Nice way of presentation and choosing of words made this poem perfect...and touched my heart....
Looking at the evil heart of men and the work of their cruelty! My heart weeps for the mother of the child. Thanks for sharing this tragic poem. Not only do we as poets share the good times and the beautiful moments, but sad times as this.
the situation is entirely written with profound of quest - thought of slaughtering the innocent for reaping crooked desires by the sloths in dark side of the world......the content holds true emotions along with the mode of words.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
hay nice can you read and coment on mine plz thanks jeska