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.