• driedwaterspring 15w

    Who Dies?

    I was born from the mother's womb,
    My laughter echoed in the beautiful mountains,
    The merry sunshine bounced of my wheatish skin,
    As I touched the blades of grass with my tiny fingers,
    I knew this world to be a happy place,
    The pashmina toga felt so light on my shoulders,
    Carrying no weight of the life beyond,
    I cherished the gift Almighty bestowed me,
    The gurgling Indus and chirping birds,
    Pleasant disturbances in the world yet so calm,
    I was a happy child,
    The world hidden under the tranquil viel,

    My shoulders ache now, the backpack too heavy for them,
    I look at my hands willing to see a pen,
    An Ak looks back at me, terrorizing me with menace,
    I was scared to hold it for the first time,
    The terror seems to hold,
    Frightened innocent eyes look at me,
    Piercing my heart with scary stares,
    I'm pawn in this endless game,
    I'm not a terrorist, for I am terrorized,
    I'm not a killer, for I am already dead,
    Save me not, for I'm damned,
    Never did I choose to pick up a gun,
    I was not born like this, I was made one,
    I'm not a terrorist, jihadi, martyr or a soldier,
    I'm just a mother's son,
    I wanted to lift a pen,
    But you made me lift the gun...