The boy laid still, on the hospital bed
Oozing out his limbs, was thick blood, red
As I see his sister, she seemed to dread
"They'll come for Papa too," to me, she said
Mother's in coma, Uncle is dead
I wonder when the thirst of those killers, end
They snatch away their friends, and their loved ones
They spread the message of terror, fights and guns
I want peace,
You want peace,
We want peace.
So end these fights,
And end this terror!
© Copyright 2016 Zayn Ul Abidin. All rights reserved.
Short Story / Other
Short Story / Horror
Essay / Romance
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