I write this piece as a tribute to the blast victims in the world, those who lost their lives and those who witnessed the heinous terrorist attacks. The few seconds that changed their lives just because they were in the wrong place or should I say some cruel soul devised, planned the mass murder, the murder of humanity. There is a terrorist attack nearly everyday in some corner of the world, it is condemned but I have a question. When will it stop? Haven’t we had enough?
The young, the old all scurried for shelter.
Ran from here to there helter skelter.
They had no inkling what was to come their way,
when they left home.
It shook every bone inside them,
no one knew what had happened for the first few moments.
Until they saw blood being shed,
the blast had changed the entire tableau in a jiffy.
The convivial market place had collapsed,
they saw it crumble in front of their eyes.
The mother screamed in search of her three year old,
the old father looked for someone who could
help in rushing his twenty year old son to a hospital.
There was a havoc, all over,
everyone needed help,
a stranger assisted another stranger to help the lady who had lost a limb.
What had happened?
The feeling was just not sinking, they were all hapless,
all they wanted was a safe place to hide.
They were caught in a horrendous terrorist blast,
the terrible criminals had targeted them,
they could not have imagined in their wildest dreams
to be the victims of a bomb blast.
Few lost their organs, few their lives,
few their loved ones and
those lucky ones who survived were scarred for the rest of their lives,
scarred with a fear of the unknown.
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