Random
The sun rolled by The moon looked on While we stood there Wondering what was wrong The blood of the martyrs Flowing like rivulets Thick and red, they were Going to a complete waste The spirits of the dead Kept staring at me Asking us questions silently How disappointing could you be? Our tears, our wounds, the deathly haze For what? Oh what mistake did we make? Was it for this miserable day? That kids are buried by fathers in haste? That mothers ran out of tears Crying for the missing ones And wives stare at the door Hoping they get their husband's glance That the dead would pile up in heaps While their flesh gets eaten by worms Only because no one can decide Who killed whom, and whose is the turn