Grace Under Fire

Mom wrote this poem yesterday.

The pigeons are all a flutter…
Blood streaks and stains the gutter.
Life is shot to a screaming standstill,
Through the smoke we glimpse the face of evil.

Terror it seems has got even bigger
It is now youth with fingers on the trigger
Humanity shudders at the brutal force
As lives are taken, without any remorse.

The cries are deafening
Yet leaves us speechless
And Mumbai weeps …
As terror hacks at its knees.

And though she explodes and burns, this is Grace under fire -
Crumbling, as Courage and valor end on the funeral pyre!
Like the Taj, though wounded, but still standing strong
The people of Mumbai shall rise ever hopeful, before long…

And the whole world watches this latest atrocity
With dumbfounded horror edged with awful familiarity.

- Preeta

Night

Day is over,
Night's begun.
Darkness follows,
The fading sun.

And it lingers,
till the send,
Of daylights whisper,
'round the bend.

Alone

Alone on the road,
Alone I shall be.
Till you come along,
To be with me.

- Shivi

House by the Sea

The silent house sits by the sea,
Silently calling out to me.
In it's eyes one can see,
All the things it had to be.

By it's patrons forced to stand,
In this lonely, barren land.
Quietly circled by a band,
Of seaweed lying in the sand.

On is walls paint is peeling,
Ivy climbs up to the ceiling.
It stands alone, unapealing,
A house at which time is stealing.

The silent house sits by the sea,
Silently calling out to me.
And I'm the one it has to be,
I'm the one who'll set is free.

- Shivangi Narain