In Rama

Don’t tell me war

ear gets annoyed

eye cannot hold

humans with least reason

pull guns to destroy 

destroy lives they cannot build 

dig trenches they cannot fill

watches children prey

deep down into the mill

what have we in stored?

anger to burst

muscles to pounce

explode and devour 

wailing in Rama

I refuse comfort 

am waiting mama

this life is cut short

Rama has taste; it taste sour 

peace has stay; it stays far

kill it to please a god

pay them more than sought 

an island of forgetfulness; peace is lost

all in dementia 

in Rama

those who open doors 

meets gun shot; gets bitten 

those who close

meet long range bombs and gets smitten