Paris In Tears And Fears - 13th November Terror Attack Poem by Bernedita Rosinha Pinto

O' those unexpected attacks of terror
not even the blind, the lame, the sick, foresee
yet, those episodes keep repeating, casting grief
as nothing can stop those horses of rage
which gallop on the hooves of unworthy vengeance;
sounds of bullets upon bullets kept echoing
upon innocents who died without reason or treason;
some into pieces blown away like splinters
as suicide bombers detonated their own vests
killing others unexpectedly, undeservingly,
thus turning joyful hearts
into melancholy and mourning
as friends watched friends die
before their very own eyes
as families lost their loved ones
without any grave illness or just cause;
yet those who died were not sinners
or criminals of great fame;
they were just sitting there
in restaurants and at concert halls
sharing love and life,
and promises of friendships,
all they wished for
was a good time on Earth,
never expecting a restaurant
or a pub to be that place
where death could confront them in their faces;
but suddenly they had to yield
to the callous unseen hands
of a treacherous end
when bullets and bombs they faced
and died without a chance to tell
that they had to depart not of their own accord
but because of an ordeal others had imposed on them;
how ruthless were those men with guns and bombs
to satiate their anger, their revenge, their vent
they put innocent peoples' lives in a death trap
where no alarm, no escape, no survival emanates;
O' how much more acceptable would death not be
if by natural disaster or calamity
or even by an earthquake
had God to summon those
innocent hundreds of lives to perish
but to meet an end so horrendous which is decided
by human mind-set which does not want
to think, amend and avoid the death of others
is the greatest grief anyone can ever bear
that not even the heartaches, the tears, the memories
will ever stop the generations
from recollecting that dreadful night in Paris.