The Deathly Valley


I walk the blood-reeking streets

Stumbling through the rubble and dust,

With fear and bleakness crawled up in my skin

I ,a mediocre man, has been forsaken.


The winds howl the song of lament

Plants beg to be spared from the stench,

Animals cower in their dwellings

Yet guns and their bullets are cunning.


I am seeing a utopian world crumbling

Wrath is upon my fellow plebeians,

The elite leaders quarrel and screech

The worldly scholars debate and preach

While a mediocre man like me bleeds.


Last of my kin who is listless and weak

His hearing numbed from the bombs and shrieks,

The child deaf to peace looks upon me

His hollow eyes yearn to be free.


In death, he sees a glimpse of serenity

Maybe being lifeless the aggressors would pity,

In death, he believes the worst would be over

He ends his life and becomes a spectator.


We the mediocre men stood back and watched

How wretched this damned world was,

The entire Kashmir flooded with blood

Yet the havoc has just begun.

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About the author:

Albeena Alvi- Gargi College, DU


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