Shattered, poetry by Pratya Thakur at Spillwords.com
Marek Studzinski

Shattered

Shattered

written by: Pratya Thakur

 

Every little flower has drooped its head.
Every little bird’s voice cracked; tears shed.
With a heavy heart they beg, they implore.
Don’t crush my petals under warheads.
Don’t hush my voice with catalystic booms.

The little bird had just spread its wings,
Full of hope, full of life: Swoosh!
A bullet zipped past, caking it in blood.
Its wings trembled, quivered, dripped
Falling to dust, its eyes held a mute cry.

The flower had just opened its petals,
It wanted to sway in the breeze, live in peace.
Crack! It was torn, crushed, turned to dirt
Its sweet fragrance, wafted one last time
It held the grief of a heartbroken scream.

Where are the harbingers of peace?
Where are the saviors of humanity?
Where are the eye-opening lessons?
All lost under unjustified ambitions.
All lost to hatred, jealousy, animosity.

Every little flower has drooped its head.
Every little bird’s voice cracked; tears shed.
With a heavy heart they beg, they implore.
Don’t crush my petals under warheads.
Don’t hush my voice with cataclysmic booms.

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