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Jun 2014
Beneath the panning sky of brightest blue
As the city awakes to a sun or two.
Morning breeze, a wind aloft,
Dreamers leave their slumber to rise above.

This town saw, yesterday, its longest night,
History made in a little child's plight.
Running from life, as cruel as can be,
A citadel towers over the common folk as a witness to his story.

Drawn from safety, from his, nest he wandered too far,
As he innocently walked into a wicked man's trap.
Cautious glances couldn't save his life,
In the night, all they heard was his desperate cries.

A predator out on the loose preying on the lamb.
Silent whispers with the wind blows with might.
Now, as the morning sun awakens this town's life,
The citadel at the centre begs to be heard on the events of the previous night.
Meenu Syriac
Written by
Meenu Syriac  India
(India)   
617
   Babu kandula
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