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This World

Written by Shruthi


Where children are miserable with Hands, feet, faces covered in burns and gunpowder Lungs that inhale toxic fumes And pockets filled with a day's meagre meal Where rivers run red 

And trees shed tears Still, we reconcile with losing The simple luxury of swaying with wildflowers


Where streets once full of light and laughter Are now filled with fleeing, screaming people Uncomprehending eyes and cold hands All because in a world so full of hate They had felt pride in their identity


Where the Earth rattles with fury at regular intervals And a child's bedroom is glassless windows and a ratty mattress

Where nights are pierced with shots, shouts

And broken dreams Where our fate that hangs precariously

Awaits a saviour, a messiah, or salvation We beget decorated lies from greedy lips

That mete out empty promises Our World, this solitary orb

Is enveloped by oblivion With us seeking what’s rudimentary

And yet theoretical: Peace



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