By Diya Singh
On a Saturday morning,
With a nightmare of war aborning,
in horror, she woke up.
To the echoes of gunshots, as it tore her up,
rushing downstairs with her nervous gut.
She her parents’ faces so pale,
she could feel herself getting frail.
The news aired,
and The War- was declared.
The thought of her once-mirthful days now blurred,
the screams of soldiers getting shot-
was all she heard.
Their country was bleeding,
and hearts were weeping.
Two forces with the violent soldiers marched to be led,
power and greed was all in their Generals’ heads.
Stray bullets, killing as they entered homes;
aims of desolation, with their minds occupied with foes.
She was told to keep away from windows and avoid upper floors,
she slept with her parents, under the stairs away from the doors.
BOOM! she heard the loudest sound,
and all three quickly lay on the ground.
The windows rattled,
their minds shackled,
the walls shook,
Terrorised, as white as a ghost, her face looked.
She panicked and trembled,
A scene from a war movie, it resembled.
All her mother did was hug her tight;
with tears in her eyes.
Seeing dawn and dusk, to The God, she only asked,
if that day will be her last.
With so many casualties around,
people evacuating and leaving the town,
“Is anyone coming to rescue us?”
her parents on a call discussed.
And all she pondered in her mind,
was “Will mankind ever be kind?”.