Deathless Distress

The unseen sawing goes on

non-stop in the depth.

The inner bleeding is hid;

the exterior displays

no smudges of gore.

*

Cloaked in a veil of darkness

the world dips in deep slumber.

Many a plaintive heart

moans in misery.

Unaware, the night paces

towards the dawn.

The world feigns merriment,

puts a brave face.

Hopes are not resurrected

by daylight either.

The aggrieved souls

get crushed between

days and nights.

Agonised hearts wait

for a turnaround.

Will a rosy picture sprout,

with hues variegated?

(Moved by the misery of Gazan children …)

***