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


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