BLOODSHED

A saintly valley,
With divine people.
Laughing mothers roaming,
With their smiling children.
But all of a sudden,
People are in surge.
Moving frantically,
Accompanying their hommies.
Those sugary voices,
Replaced by the deadly sound of guns.
Those saccharine smiles,
Replaced by the wailing faces.
Mourning mothers,
Crying for their children.
Sobbing sisters,
Crying for their brothers.
Tearful people,
Crying for their
Very own people.
Those monsters,
Those cruel monsters,
Turned my valley of saints,
Into "The Valley of Guns".

Author's Note

This poem talks about my motherland, Kashmir.
I hope you like it :)

Reviews

[Mufeen]

A big wala "thanku" for this...we are proud of you.. :)

[Shah Sabia]

Thankyou.
And this was my responsibility :)