April last year and April this year
April is heat-bitten, with no lovable warmth and chill,
full of anguish and agony and anxiety;
war, a word, spreading ruins and evils only,
is the commander and ruler of the time.
Wickedness of all kinds, fury, scares,
ill-omen, murders, cruelty, with no droplets of
sympathy, empathy or clemency, fills
each letter’s core with mock at the loss of beings.
Barefoot are now the inmates of mansions,
empty-bellied, thirst-attacked, having no roof to protect,
from the rage of calamities and axes of
two-legged beasts, may have sense.
Nature gave words of sense to man
who often gets dipped in dirt,
tearing apart the glory that cheers lives,
turning useless, wicked and harmful
causing utter chaos all around.
Little silky legs run on hard spheres;
tender mouths lament pop and mom,
food, water, cloth and shelter.
The humanity, possessing a mother’s heart,
creates a flood in its owners' eyes and
cannot bear this hapless, helpless stage of
mourning by the innocent faces,
demise and deformity triumph
And the escaping ones be orphans; no aid.
April was hot last year, warm and chill;
minds found connections and affections,
enjoying travels and laughter,
friendships with less foes, adding spice to life.
This vast world keeps paths open abundant for
journeys through peace and love,
and let us pray for the nations to shake hands,
and let the avoidance of enmity be the word of the day.
