Those mesmerising nights those misty mornings
I still recall those children aloud
But as I walk by the bay today
Makes me feel completed desolated
Me think war is nugatory
I consider love more befitting
None, I see for now they have gone
As they are bereaved of a family’s love
Who will abate those little ones?
I spot none other than
An iniquitous lady in a bun
Who would consider them a burden.
Keep walking, those lively noises won’t come around
Keep shut, you are impotent in front of them
We better obliterate about protection
Because they doth nothing than perception
Yet it should be meaningful
As one of the indulged are victorious.
– By Prisha Saha