he walked into the wrong path,
he thought it wud b fine.
he grew to become more greedy,
as he saw rich gold shine.
he engaged himself in blunders,
collecting green notes each day.
he lost himself in thunders,
got caught in a plan so GREY.
he left from home to come back,
all set and prepared for the day.
he killed an innocent hundred,
in a lake of blood they lay.
he gunned the city so harshly,
hand-grenades thrown everywhere.
all i could see is terror,
and cries of the ones who care.
This cruel bast*rd kept smiling,
no inch of regret on his face.
how could he be so cruel,
inhuman, sick, heartless.
The country is wet with tears,
more furious than it cud b.
strong inside, yet scared with terror.
revolvin in the mind, a need for safety.
----- P.S. 'he' doesnt start in capital anywhere bcoz i dont wana give even a bit of respect for tht ba***rd!
the qasab fellow
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tht b*****d confessed u knw... gud to c chnge of mood in dis poem of urs.. kudos!
ReplyDeletethanxoooo.....i kno they keep showin him every nw n then...
ReplyDeletehmmm achaa tha....some1 loves the country and hates it enemies to that very extent....good keep it up
ReplyDeletereally awesome. if such texts against those terrorsts keep on emerging, some day even they'll realise that they are nothing but cowards playing with the lives of people. Nice poetry by the way.
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