Burns on the body everywhere,
No, I have not been there,
But I see his pictures from here.
Was he a sadist or a terrorist?
Was he found an insane activist?
Did he was ever came in your way to resist?
Far behind from religion and politics,
The infant has to read yet the ethics,
He hasn't learned the rules of criminal civics,
He was sleeping with a soother in his mouth here,
He was dreaming his mother, outside somewhere,
Unaware his mother will never come back there.
She wanted some milk for his hunger and thirsts,
She was hungry and had no milk in his breasts,
In search of milk he arrived at the outskirts,
A missile changed him into the ashes,
On the face of humanity red lashes,
On the hips of humanity I can see rashes!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A poignant write! Neither the war mongers nor the terrorists ever care for the lives of innocents!