Hunger
conspicuous
By his
sunken cheeks
And
protruding skulls;
Rivulets
of cold sweats
Down his
brows
Falling
like rancid whey.
Hordes of
humans
Discarded
in hostile lands;
Boats of
innocent beings
Dealt
with unfair hands.
Agony
written large on her face,
Her
vision blurred
And
dreams cruelly curbed;
Cheated
at home
And
shunned abroad
No place
to call her own!
Long
marches of pained hearts
With
placards and bands,
Squatters
of chaste faces
Facing
ugly hands.
Eyes
starring into the horizon
Subduing
the weeping him
For a crime
not done;
Gulping
poignant tears
And fiery
ire
For
sympathy is unknown.
Increasing
number of god’s very beings
Wondering
who might he or she be;
In the company
of millions alike,
Yonder
cries a lone refugee.
True tribute to millions of suffering and neglected souls.
ReplyDelete"Agony written large on her face,
Her vision blurred
And dreams cruelly curbed;
Cheated at home
And shunned abroad
No place to call her own!
.............
Yonder cries a lone refugee."
Not only the blessings from happy ones bring good
At times- the blessing from the wailing heart shines the paths of people like you.
May the collected thanks, kudos from wailing half-dead beings bring more human like you.
True tribute to the refugees on World Refugee Day-2015.
Thank you for finding time to ready my reflections and many thanks for your kind comments.
DeleteIt is touching one,mama...The lines really moved me and made me want to comment....
ReplyDeleteI also add upon it:
Dreaming of life brand new in strange land,
Some escaped,some desired and some compelled their hearts,
Gradually the bridge between us collapsed,
To create a new wall
That hid our own blood from each other
And people of the same family
Became people we don't even dream of.
The distance lengthened,
and our kinship that was real
but became virtual.
In each passing moment
I see a hope sleeping in me
That hinders me
from waking to meeting again
The way god allocated us into family.
Poor refugees,i pity them of their pathetic conditions.Their own land turned wild and they became people neither of home nor of jungle.They swing on the see-saw to rise where the fate lifts them.
It is a nice poem,mama.I have become your fan now.