Some thoughts in 'bloody days'

It's raining blood
The earth is wet
Weeping torrents
The eyes will dry
The face is set...
In grief...


The colour of blood
Is orange or red!


Freedom is fragrance
But the jasmine heads are slain
And then trampled upon
By terrorists...


Promises are made to be broken
Slender necks are fated to be cut...


Why don't we start holding hands?
Why don't we open the windows of our minds?
They've been closed for so long...
Are we so heartless as to play nonchalantly
With lives?


The flags are all red
Clothing the bodies that have bled!


In the days of Maveli
There was equality and liberty
Or so they say...
People loved truth
And so there was happiness
Like the different musical notes
That play in harmony
But now rage flares
As egos burn
Smoke stinks of burning flesh
We need to bring the fragrance of love
Back into the gardens of our country...