By -Sandip Gyawali
Bullets—
Pierced my poor heart
Weaving like an arrow
Oh! Mother,
My life turned into death
Leaving tears, picture and sorrow.
Oh! Beloved,
Your red became white
Turning our ongoing wishes
My Children,
Our bed is now my pyre
Burning into nothing but Ashes.sa
Oh! Brother,
Our happiness paddled away
Aborning future forever apart
My Sister,
Sweet moments turned as memories
Mourning endlessly inside your heart.
Oh! Father,
You cremated your young
Confronting with immense agony
Oh! Motherland,
I, Commoner now turned sculpture
Carrying a cruel officer’s felony.
Can we ever feel safe again? | Written by Shreeansha Bhattarai [Offline Thinker]
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