crumpled in a corner,
slavery and savagery strikes him hard,
on his body marked
and scarred,
bruises increment linearly down his back,

whipped not once,
not twice, not thrice,
innumerable times,
his body aches and trembles in pain,
****** tears shed as he prays,

gazing in the sky,
he seeks for help,
cries for his mother,
an infant is he,
taken away by barbarity and atrocity,

'mama' he screams in pain,
'where are you?' he keeps shouting,
the murderers keep striking, keep slicing,
slowly killing each child,
causing pain and tortuously straining,

crawling towards the end of the street,
beyond the wall he lurks,
the arising pain seems to augment,
as he controls himself trying not to cause distraction,
silently sobbing for God to help,

he knows this is the last of the city,
corpse's lay in each street,
with blood streaming in drains,
burnt houses, beheaded children,
in the whole city bodies lay either restless or awaiting for their souls to be taken away.