The terror drives their heart beats into a drum
A drummer erasing your life and turning it into a bum.
Sirens, louder than your heart’s drum,
Blare out the need to evaluate the slum.
Run, run, run faster, faster still, jump
Into the bomb shelter for fear of being a lump
On the street, another cadaver hacked in a frump.
Blood stains the streets, cars, homes, and fields
That sustain the rebellion that fights oppressives.
In a vain attempt to eradicate the beliefs
I look around, children, women, elderly, youth,
All strewn like rag dolls, puppets on strings! Truth,
They are victims of unending war for territory of faith.
What a scam, lark, lie, brainwashing schemes,
Imposing your will on others!
Keep them weak, hungry, and hopeless,
As you stomp on their rights! Bleed them,
It’s the last foray into unknow, dread for them
Terrors testify that the drum itself is to be feared. For them
Is a way of life!
Well then, do something to end the strife!
That’s no way to live a life!
Poetry for Change 