By Srijani Jana
Red skies, cities ablaze.
No please, by all means, look away
You don't have the stomach for war, you say
But neither did the child left with half a face.
Don't you worry though, your home is safe.
Do you languish on the sofa, as you watch the news?
Knowing that you're a lackadaisical push of a button away,
From making it out of that terrible place
Of violent nights and mournful days,
Of breathless years spent wasting away,
Of childhoods lost amongst strewn limbs,
Of children left with no kin
You push that button, it's pitch black
In a sea of unspeakable crimes, it's a smaller sin.
Don't you worry, babe, you're safe.
You've won front row tickets, to someone else's grave
You can lean back, relax; bathe in endless waves of hate
You'll emerge rejuvenated, unscathed
There's no carnage in this world you can't ignore,
No matter how many corpses are washed ashore.
That's not your problem, you can walk back home
Through well-lit streets, and bloodless roads.
Don't you heavy your tender heart, you'll be fine,
You'll make it home on time.
And when you arrive, you'll exclaim you're famished!
Oh what a day you've had, one couldn't imagine.
Surrounded by friends and family,
Around a table laid with delicacies,
You watch them talk about casualties...
Well, casually.
War comes to you in small, digestible pieces
An occasional garnish for the dinner table conversation
You pass it around with a hesitant haste,
Was it too metallic for your taste?
You gag, you spit it out and wipe your mouth,
Does your hand come away red, or do you sleep sound?
Soon the shroud of night is pulled away
Exposing the dust and rubble under which they lay
Isn't it a lovely morning, the next day?
Broken bones and dried blood
Bodies crushed, they'll never wake
Finally, you see
They've made their grand escape.
Escaped the sound and smoke and trouble
Of being alive under all that rubble
Escaped your worldly struggles;
The cruelty of watching you live in your despicable little bubble.
Oh yes, that hellish nine-to-five
That has spared you no time to think
Of the change that you could bring;
Of the cause that your silence sinks.
Between thoughtless actions
And actionless thoughts
Something insurmountable is lost.
Have you considered the cost?
Maybe, just maybe, it's time to worry, bystander.
It's time to declare what your stand is.
Where have you been standing?
You've been playing the pawn too long,
But can you tell right from wrong?
Or are you afraid to pry,
To find yourself complicit in their crimes?
Perhaps you think they deserve it, perhaps you don't;
Perhaps you do you not trust the Authority
And you've never stood for this atrocity,
But do you stand for anything at all?
At this rate, you better not, honestly
The fear is, that irrespective of your morality
You do not care for their mortality;
You'll finally stand when the dead are declared guilty
When the verdict's in, from the side that wins
Will you celebrate with them triumphantly?
Will you rejoice in the lost humanity?
You better not, bystander.
You better not stand there tall and proud,
You better not stand just to take a bow.