War

Cruelty

A well-built body lying on the earth 
Surrounded by thorns, shrubs and stones 
That must have been nourished and cared since birth
Was like an Egyptian headless statue without bones. 

The soft green grass and weeds were drenched 
With dark red blood of that strong frame. 
Only blood could have cruelly quenched 
The hearts who let the fire of war flame. 

Merciless bullets holed his figure and his head
Was struck off and hanged upon a wooden pole
Yonder from the corpse sleeping on the nature's bed. 
Ah! no one could awake the poor soul. 

Life, the greatest gift is being destroyed by those 
Who compel one brother to kill others thinking them foes. 

Good morning

Morning 


We greet others ' Good morning' 
But do we ever think?
Who greets Morning? 
The waking sun from the riverbed, 
The chirping birds on the trees, 
The cocks with their full-throated crowing,
The resting drops of dew on the grass
And the blooming buds of blossoms.
It is the harbinger of vitality.
So we greet Morning ' Good morning'