Imagine a sudden air-strike and a sweet gift of a news of Baby,
Igniting together, images of terror and a pink-cheeked gurgly;
What sounds it heard in a town struck by violent terror-
Now growing within a fearful, loving, unsure young mother.
Mother promises the unborn child, to find peace in war;
She only wants her baby, her home, roof above heads four.
She fiercely, swiftly protects, hides from men and gunshot ring
And re-counts the days, months, dreary winter through Spring!
Her doctor was shot, he was caring about patients in secret,
The dictat was scant, but obedience when rust, must regret-
The brother, fifteen, was kidnapped-village surrounded by arms-
No man to protect, earn bread. Mother struck deal, and feeding charms.
The baby is growing, emotional tugs, and tensions brewing-
When mother refuses water in the freeze, the gun-toting guests holding-neck-choking.
Baby kicks, dying to protect, screaming from within all warm,
“Stop! Quiet!” says mother, “Outside there is no end to terror, nor killing farm.”
Baby learns to differentiate sounds, his mother’s behest,
By the time he’s born, his vocabulary includes war, fear, behead;
Completely innocent, bringing hope from stars, loving and cheering-
Makes for a day of grateful joy! Till guns return, hungry-cold-aggression-jeering.
Heavy bombing drowns the planning talk, the fear and tears,
baby cries on, no one hears, none allowed to go near.
They surround the house, found out she’d sheltered the fighters,
Her live-in guests light up her home, the ungrateful heaven bound blighters.
In the sounds of silence, let the only reasoning be, “No more war games!”
For gas, wood, food, fuel, gold, jobs, daughter, or even that of predicted: water!
Terrorism is a double-edged sword. Remove this tool from the armoury of social solutions.🙏