The blood of our decedent relatives scream from their Graves
How awful it came, the dreadful day we couldn’t save
When death approached with a dagger, knocking on our doors
Through his agents who care-less about human lives and souls.
A grievous ambience broke, with the creak the door made
We frosted and were spectre-gray
Life became dregged and was made desolate.
A bomb was launched, some were burnt to death while others lived,
Escaping through a precarious attempt wasn’t an easy task but we did!
Yes, we are alive!
Left-overs now taste better as water from the gutter nourishes
Roaming the street, begging for alms from people is something we can’t resist
Our once enriched skin and complexion now becomes plain,
Replying to the call of nature and then fade.
About the street, we roam!
Our minds jug to the hearing of the falling of Rome
Our Rome which is our city
The inconsiderate sect has pulled down the city, again!
An attack that leads to the spontaneity of our reasoning
We run helter-skelter to save ourselves from being killed
Showing less affection for our husband and kids
Not worrying if they fall or get killed
But keeping their memories whether or not they did.
These actions repeat day after day, months after months and years after years
Words of assurance from the government sounds devastating to the ears
As we know that help comes from nowhere unless we die.
Readers, do we still have hope?
Is our sabotaged city going to be peaceful to be called a home?
We are hopeless unless we die
But death seems to put our names on reserve.
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