These days

These days

Houses are without rooms,

Brides without grooms,

Plants with open roots,

People travelling on foot,

No child in school,

Formal education thrown into the pool,

Everything is on fire,

Our music from machine gun fire,

Everyone seems mute,

People questing an escape route.

These days

No one is sure of the next hour

But everyone desires a tomb decorated with flower,

Peace is a thing of the past,

Every hour is announced by bomb blast,

Roads are beautified with tiles

Of dead bodies laid in piles.

Some as a result of hunger,

Others, victims of the war’s anger.