April is heat-bitten, with warmth and chill nil,
anguish, agony and anxiety; in the minds full,
war, a word, spreading only ruins and evils,
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 mansion-inmates,
empty-bellied, thirst-attacked and no roof to protect,
from the rage of battle and the sharp axes of
two-legged beasts, may be for reasons sound.
Nature gave only to man words of sense.
He often dips his thoughts in dirt,
turning useless, wicked and harmful
tearing apart the glory that cheers lives.
Little silky legs run on hard spheres;
tender mouths lament for pop, mom,
food, water, cloth and shelter, sad indeed.
The humanity, possessing a mother’s heart,
creates a flood in its owners' eyes and
cannot bear this hapless, helpless stage of
mourning; demise and deformity triumph and
the escaping ones are orphans now, no aid.
April was hot last year, warm and chill;
minds found connections and affections,
enjoying travels and laughter,
friendships and services adding spice to life.
This vast world keeps open ways 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.
