by Dr M C Gupta
The rockets hurled on civilians in the desert shall boomerang.
Rockets zero in on the targets
With a pin-pointed accuracy.
But those launching them have no regrets,
They just gloat in their supremacy.
They’re heartless but have a wicked mind,
They drop bombs gleefully on others.
They cause havoc of the vilest kind,
Viewing which a human soul shudders.
Causing much turmoil in the desert,
Raising hell in mountains and in sands;
Treating men, women, children as dirt,
They send them on too risky errands.
Self-appointed Human Rights zealots
Violate those rights in their own deeds.
They forget that they too shall deserve
Reprisal, having sown hatred seeds.
That day is certainly not distant
When the sullen silence of the grave
Will be shattered by the loud thunder
Of fire from a secret Afghan cave.
• Written in abab, 9-9-9-9 format
* Initially written as entry 463012 in "WAR POETRY--award winner" , WAR POETRY. Revised and posted as the present item on 3 May 2009.
M C Gupta
20 October 2006