Sunday’s womb bore

A tragedy—so gut-wrenching

When tormentor’s gavel cracked

on the garden;

An episode of horrific bloodbath

Sprawling blood into people’s laps

Leaving mothers wailing and waning

With their cries touching the sky

With dewy eyes welling up incessantly

Crushing innocent dreams under brutality

Returning all unto the autumn

Ah! Remembering those flower-faced children

That withered before they blossom

The families while celebrating their holy day

Breathed their last

Leaving their kith and kin shattered

A marooning wave spread everywhere

It is a demand of humanity to be sad and grieved

In order to share sorrows with afflicted and bereaved

O merciful God!

From appallingly awful wrath protect mankind

Without your compassion,

No safe sanctuary in the world we find!


Lahore, April 2.