It Happened

Folder: 
Satish Verma

Born out of hate 
condemned to fear from each other, 
the race lives, the race dies. 

The loser finds a quotient 
to dig a mass grave 
for innocent paeans. 

My stains were bigger than you. 
In no man’s land, a corpse 
is lying unattended. 

A terrorist strikes in the house 
of god, who will not react 
in the face of a massacre. 

Death will not atone 
the grief of a child, 
whose mother did not come back.