The recent senseless killings, a terror attack, in the French Riviera (Nice) has appalled people around the globe. Mamta recounts the savage violence in verse.
In another Continent
Like a leitmotif
A Truck rams
Turning Bastille celebration into funerary moments
Footprints of terror running amok
Every sunrise torn by violence
Every sunset soaked in gore
A spasming gloom
Rendering survivours mute and quivering
The world has new metaphors
Brutal and harsh
Machine guns, ballistic humans
Rape and plunder
Till the litany of violence
Becomes the pied piper of souls
As a child watches
A pinwheel whirling in the breeze
Her mother drinking in his joy with her gaze
His father holding him close
That moment is scary
It’s tender and soft
It doesn’t belong to this world
The child
Ends up
With a body like a sieve
His mother and father
Buried in the stampede
The bright pinwheel damp
Crimson with his blood
No longer flutters.
©Mamta Joshi
Pix from Net.