Humane

The people were untouched by 

light, the belly of the room torn 

open in 

poisonous fright. 

The little humans slept through 

their mother's whimpered lullabies, 

as the walls pulsed with prayers and 

cries, the gods slept through the corpses 

of his child. 

Every heart thumped in the rhythm of grief; 

the humane humans were lost to greed. 

Humans were engraved by beasts of instinct, 

the frail stem crushed by trunk 

the young foolish boy awaited his mother's scent 

forever by the fence, 

a flower sat spoilt on the bench by the 

gate. The smell of rot danced in the cage 

where the flowers had been struck 

by parasites in hate. 

The all seeing eye was blind in pride 

and the velvet of 

skin wilted without light.

The small cramped heart was turned to 

stone, as the infant's cries drowned 

the miserable, cold ground. 

The wrinkled skin 

of the warm old lady was drenched in 

grief and brave old men wept tears that 

bled. Howls of agony flooded the town, 

the lamps flickered in the weight 

of sins and grief . 

Yet the scared little child, 

on the verge of sleep 

saw the gods begging on their 

knees, for forgiveness 

as she turned to ash.

Aakanksha - An average high schooler, with a coffee addiction and attachment with cats.