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Akshat Agarwal Mar 2018
Will we care to know who we are,
unbolt our mind and explore.

Boundless lands are a leap away,
yet we decide to stay where we were.

Holding on to careless memories that slip,
we make a conundrum of our life.

Eyes turn to faucets that sob till dusk
and nurture pain that body expels.

Second chances that God showers us with
can drag us towards a utopia.

If our reluctance still shows up,
we must be foolish to preach for mercy.
I'm a firm believer of the idea that it's never too late to improve. If we know the consequences of our sins yet abstain ourselves from doing good, it is a shame.
(Cry of Grievance: life's overwhelming problems.)

Except for God's mercy,
My troubles would have long
Destroyed me.

Multiplied like the stars,
They are as deceitful as
The ways of a brook.
An innocent prey, stalked game;
I am the target of their poignant aim.

Like water, my troubles flow;
They are as unwelcome as a foe.

But God shall plague them.
He shall bind them with a strong cord
And crush them 'neath his mighty foot.
And they shall cease.

Lord, by your sovereign power,
Rebuke them into oblivion
That they all cease.

**NOTE: This psalm does not refer to any person. Herein, I am simply speaking of the daily grind in my life, which seemed to have been multiplied one-hundred fold.
The flood left a cavity.
It came in without mercy,
It removed and ripped what I held onto,
It took away what I loved,
But it's ironic that a flood of love removed all the love that I ever had.
The flood diluted it's impurities with my purities.
Dipendu Das Mar 2018
Weeping his cheeks he goes from man to man.
With his heart covered with desire to get some grain.
Still no mercy, still no gain.
He gets nothing but a sorrowful pain.
Walking on footpath,
Suddenly his eyes fall on the garbage pail.
He discovered the left of people's food thrown on the pail.
He tried to took out the food to eat.
But dogs were too rushed into it.
As they were too hungry indeed.
He had no chance to get some food to eat.
He questioned his fortune, ‘Does he doesn't have right to live ?’
With the pretty pain,
He just forgot to live again.
Hunger and Beggary is the problem of all times and ages... Universal appeal to hunger...
Skaidrum Feb 2018
i.

Death; just an old dog
still trying to learn new tricks;
To soften our grief.
Of the haiku series
i. mercy

© Copywrite Skaidrum
Those outstretched arms upon the Cross
beckon to you their embrace;
not as a thrall loth to return to cruel master,
but as a child fain towards his father!

Howsoever far we fall from the path,
the yearning of nail-pierced hands calls.
Amidst hateful sin and wrothfulness,
we comprehend not such unwarranted mercy.
Inspired by Kristin Lavransdatter.
refy Feb 2018
How can you ever picture a war?

Is it by the screams of innocent people;

As they break the silence of the aftermath?

Or is it by the piles of ****** bodies;

Enveloped with foul smell and black, thick flies?



How can you ever imagine the battles?

Can you feel how it's like;

To hold your own flesh and blood in your hands?

Can you even relate;

How your skin rips apart by cold steel?



How can you ever put yourself in their shoes?

The guilt and the rush;

As you pull the trigger and explode their heads?

The sound of cracking bones and spurting blood;

As you dive your knife deep into their hearts?



How can you even dare to think about the fallout?

A loud cry of a young boy;

Holding his father's limbs?

A banging shriek of a woman;

Holding her baby without head?



A silent weep of a young girl;

Holding her broken doll as her house burns down?

The sobbing tears of a man;

Holding his beloved whom burnt to a crisp?



HOW ? HOW? HOW CAN YOU EVER PICTURE A WAR?





.... I can't
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