The Whimpering Souls

Thousands of sirens blare from far,

Terror-stricken is each face that appears.

The air smells of the dead,

From loads of bloodshed.

Split bodies, abandoned bags,

Shoes from a child’s leg,

Are scattered in every step.

The cries and wails are unbearable,

Faces covered in blood are unrecognizable.

Her mom cooked her favorite dish,

She never knew it would turn out to be her daughter’s last wish.

Shameless and heinous is the act,

They call it Jihad as a matter of fact.

Is Jihad killing the old and young?

 Is Jihad a display of negativity strong?

What have we done?

Where did we go wrong?

The city is ruined,

And the laughter is gone.

Our souls now quiver,

At the thought of the next tremor.

A part of me is now broken,

My conscience has gone weak,

Jihadis! Tell me, is this what you call freedom?

Tell me, is this what you seek?



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