Abetted in the deception by the liberty,
Formulations upon the criminals with insanity,
Accumulation of possessions without dignity,
Aching for perpetual avarice with unknown humanity.
A catastrophic circumstance on a Sunday morning,
Massacring hundreds of mortal beings,
And yet, some are barely surviving,
With almost concealed forlorn and woebegone feelings.
Alas! such a crowd with an abyss of ignorance,
And bereft of adequate predominant acumen,
Such absorbed minds contending for power,
While voters losing their temper.
Thoroughly arrogating to themselves the right of reckoning,
Either way of breaking or bending the bidding,
And getting acquitted so easily after all,
Also not forget in abdicating the duties,
Which were gifts for reliabilities.
This is a political allusion I compose,
To the dictating politicians of course,
Evoking the memories of 21st, Sunday morning,
And a reminiscence for those with mourning.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Hundreds killed for no reason. Why? Will this ever stop? Your words have told a shocking tragedy. A sad report expressed beautifully.
On account of the the Eastern Sunday attack, hundreds of people died on the mentioned date, in Sri lanka. The true reason for the incident has not yet been precisely either confirmed or even elucidated.