#massacre

34 posts
  • kingzaps 6w

    Jalianwala bagh

    Saikdo laasho ke khoon se sana hoon main jalianwala bagh hoon main abhi bhi khada hoon
    Unhe karate aur cheekhtey suni hai
    Kaise batau aap logon kitno ke khoon se meri diware rangi hai
    Galti kiski hai yeh to pata nahi
    Magar main abhi bhi hu thama wahi
    Kitno ke aasun dekhe hai kya main batau tumhe kitne dard sahe hai
    Kitno ki maa chini chiney kitno ke gharwale hai
    Kaise yeh bayaan karu kya maine shor sune hai
    Aaj bi misaale di jaati hai un dino ki
    Khoon se laal aaj bhai paani hai uss kue ka
    Desh to azaad hua un angrezo se magar
    Aaj bhi agar aao mujhse milne jo tum agar to dekhna abhi bhi ke dhua un goliyon abhi tak ke nahi thama
    Aaj bhi sholey bhadak rahe hai seene main
    Kya kare sahab magar desh bhi ahinsa tha chup reh gaya...
    ©kingzaps

  • chaos_under_calm 20w

    Chrysanthemums

    I hope to see to you someday,
    long after when the debris has settled
    and these bereaved wails have condensed into cumulus clouds looming over your funeral,
    like a duvet of impregnable gloom,
    darker than the darkest of evil.
    Long after when these curses have come clapping down as deafening thunder,
    drowning an eulogy unfit for the likes of you,
    while your beloved laments thy sordid departure.

    Until then I will keep these wounds open,
    with the last cries of my little one
    and the mangled corpse of my dearest
    to keep me awake till death,
    so that when I meet you again,
    beyond time and space
    where ruthless fairness rules,
    I will watch with glee
    your barren soul writhing in pain,
    and when you feel the first pangs of guilt,
    know that what you inflicted upon us,
    with your sorry chance at life,
    was an eternity greater than what you could dream to endure.

    Know that when I dragged the limbs of my kin
    from under the rubble,
    my heart too was wrenched out from its feeble confines.
    That when I covered my whole world in a bloody shroud
    my irises failed to reflect the light.
    That when you razed our homes to the ground,
    You doused the light of an entire race.
    That when you painted our motherland red,
    You slayed the living and birthed many a living dead.

    Now I exist in patience forged with grit,
    vengeance trapped in limbo till the awakening,
    hoping heaven would pay you fair and square,
    for my loss is too profound
    and my angst, too fiery
    for this weak, shackled self to channel.
    So let us bid our time old friend,
    till the chrysanthemums wilt,
    for my faith would be for nothing
    if not for the different shades of karma yet to manifest.
    ©chaos_under_calm

  • _cryptomanic_ 42w

    Pulwaama Massacre: A mournful memory

    Hum yaha aaj ke din saath dene waala, pyar karne waala dhundte reh gaye,
    Aur waha kisi ne chupke se apni jaan dekar hume karzdaar kar diya.
    Reminiscing the sacrifices of the Pulwaama soldiers who martyred their lives for the country, its people and to seek for its peace.
    Great salute and deepest respect to all the soldiers from the core of our heart for tirelessly protecting us and letting us go to bed at peace keeping at stake their luxuries and lives.

    Tribute to the CRPF Jawans
    ©soumi_mallick

  • ndichuu 51w

    EYES OPEN.

    Streets of blood sucked by mud.
    Fear the echoes of pain because,
    Near the forceful death has come.
    Hear the scream, hear the slash,
    Eyes open, the machete is bloody!

    Feel the unspoken words from the lips inseparable.
    Hear the unsaid pain from the chest unopened.
    Taste the bitter food of being bereft of a loved one.
    Wear the itching shoes of justice not being served.

    Deathly footsteps come our way.
    Hope in hearts has fled away.
    Thighs against chest all we sit.
    Tears on cheeks now tell the tale.
    Hear the scream, hear the slash.
    Eyes open, the machete is bloody!

    Feel the unspoken words from the lips inseparable.
    Hear the unsaid pain from the chest unopened.
    Taste the bitter food of being bereft of a loved one.
    Wear the itching shoes of justice not being served.

    On the mattress named 'Six-feet-under' he rests.
    I bet he's tired for his days had been long.
    Flowers with sweet scents we throw down his bedroom.
    To sweeten the dreams he'll get in his bed of wood.
    The window we close, the folding door we put in place.
    We hear another scream, we hear another slash.
    Eyes over shoulders, another machete is bloody!

    Feel the unspoken words from the lips inseparable.
    Hear the unsaid pain from the chest unopened.
    Taste the bitter food of being bereft of a loved one
    Wear the itching shoes of justice not being served.

    ~Ndichu.~

    ©ndichuu

  • normancrane 62w

    V

    water drops
    drip on rocks
    from the tops
    of tomahawks

  • lol_ash_is_sleepy 115w

    Kiss & Kill

    Loving me will not be easy

    It will be war.

    You will hold the gun
    And I will hand you the bullets.

    So breathe, and embrace
    the beauty and the massacre
    That lies ahead.
    ©lolover_410

  • jeitendra_sharma 117w

    सस्ता आइना (१)

    तमाशा बिकता है यहाँ
    आईना कौन खरीदेगा
    वोह खुदा है सब देखता है
    पर खुद को कब देखेगा
    जुल्म की इन्तेहाँ कर बैठा
    फिर भी गुहार उसी से
    ऐ इंसान तू कब जीना सीखेगा
    डर बेच के बड़े बन गए
    कल के फ़रेबी
    आज इंसानियत के मसीहा बन गए
    फिर देखा है सड़को पे लोगो को मरते
    हॉस्पिटल तोह खूब बने यहां
    पर इंसान कम बने,
    खुद की थाली में जितना हो कम हैं
    दुसरो की नमक रोटी भी ज्यादा हो गयी
    खून पीते मच्चर भी निशान छोड़ जाते है
    यहाँ नस्लों के क़ातिलो की रिहाई हो गयी
    ख़ैर क्या करेगा ये सब बयां करके 'जीत'
    सुना है शराब की कीमत फिर कम हो गयी
    हर एक बोतल पे लिखा है नसीब
    सुना है फिर आज किसी बच्चे की भूख से मौत हो गयी |


    ©jeitendra_sharma
    Jks.

  • piku___ 123w

    "MISTY MASSACRES"

    She is a massacre handling her life being a depressed happy soul..searching for something she is meant for..meant for something she is searching for. A naked life with a naked vibe with a hopeless thrive that is erupting like a volcano in her mind. Being the most weirdest she is gaining nothing but just negativity in her heart where she has been lost somewhere in a damp forest searching for a road, from where she can get out.

    Dreams are being faded away. She is getting faded herself away from the things where she was good at. Tried hard to bring back her inner self but failed to get in to that positivity again. She is a massacre with a ruined soul where life is letting her down and making her lost into the woods where nothing is clear, only mist filled with tears.
    ~Piku~

  • james_taumas 117w

    Chainsaw

    The chainsaw's growling got closer. Pete crouched deeper into the wardrobe's corner, the woodgrain prickled his skin. Peeking out through the small gap between the twin doors, he winced at the angry engine bellowing in his small hiding place. It's roaring engine unsettled the dust forcing the psycho killer's fugitive to breathe through his mouth.

    A dark shape passed by his peephole. Muscles tensed, he turned into a statue, unwilling for any movement unwilling to betray him to this hunter. Diesel fumes filled the cramped space, polluting the air mingled with dead particles.

    One cough, and then another followed, a betraying clarion to his position. Hope was torn away from Pete by chained teeth and the monster"s bloody delight.

    ©james_taumas

  • anonymous_girl1609 138w

    They locked the door
    And pulled the triggers
    The shrills and screams
    Pleasing their ears
    They kept on firing
    Without any fear
    Thousands died in jallian

    Humanity ashamed
    Humans running
    like animals
    Saving their lives
    from the massacre
    They pleaded for help
    But no one listened
    Cause’ For today
    the executioner was General

    Without any crime
    Or any hearings
    The civilians were sentenced
    to death without any jury

    Some on walls
    Some in Wells
    The treachery of Britishers
    Spared none

    The patriarchs died
    Humming ‘Aaye watan’

    ©anonymous_girl1609

  • sunconxious 142w

    You Want It? You Got It

    I may have went a little too hard on him. I can see why you would think that. But the Christchurch massacre is a serious issue that reflects a serious problem with our Society. Gun fanatics try to brush it under the rug. They put that bullsh%t ad on my feed, so you know I had to Speak My Mind. Then dude tried to step to the plate and I had to let him know what's up. All the Words just Flowed to me Swiftly, and, From My Heart, I Am Called
    to Share Them. Stay Up.



    As Always,
    Peace & Love,
    SunConXious

  • shewhoseesindark 142w

    All my love and respect to NZ Muslim families.
    #massacre #hatred #spreadsmile #stopterrorism

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    NZ MOSQUE MASSACRE !!

    Where is humanity lost? I wonder.
    People spreading hatred and pain instead of love and smiles. Sometimes I feel so lost after thinking for hours about this social issues and question myself When is it going to get over? Did they really deserved this?
    Oh brothers of Muslim community,I am with you.
    ©shewhoseesindark

  • nitintwr 142w

    काल शक्ति अनंत सवाल,
    गीदड़ चल रहे यह कौन सी चाल।
    मान का नहीं, मानस का नहीं,
    पर सरफिरों का है यह कैसा बवाल।

    सभी जानवर से ऊपर है मानव,
    नर श्रेष्ठ, निम्न है दानव।
    अनमोल प्राण, जन जीवन धर्म,
    भूल ये बाते, खा गए शर्म।

    धर्म सभ्यता का है विकल्प,
    मानविय बिरादरी, प्रेम अकल्प,
    सभी धर्म की यही है सीख,
    धरा साकार, माने है तो है सब ठीक।

    फिर भी तुम मार रहे हो,
    इंसान को, उनके विश्वास को और शायद भगवान को।
    तुम कर लेना शासन निर्जन धरती पर,
    करा लेना निजी ईश्वर की प्रार्थना, पत्थरों से, हर पहर।

    क्योंकि,
    अहंकारी आतंकी एक दिन जीत जाएँगे,
    और जीत के बाद जब खुशी से चिलाएँगे।
    केवल चट्टान सुनेंगे और धरती सुनेगी,
    और सारी नदियाँ सुर्ख बहेंगी।





    Unjustified development and time fastening,
    Immorality getting towards its peak.
    Neither of prestige nor for cruelty,
    Shame unlying, humanity retreats.

    Being the best of the earthly lives,
    Humans are themselves incarnations with their genius at prime.
    Priceless lives, surviving adroits,
    Forgetting all these principles, people of that type.

    Religion is a substitution to civilisation,
    And beholds the universal fraternity,
    And perhaps love for mankind manyfolds,
    What you learn from any religion you follow!

    Still you are killing,
    Lives, believes and God even.
    And get blessed with uninhabited land,
    And get prayers done by rocks all the time for your personal God.

    Because,
    If terrorism (or terrorists) wins this world,
    And shout out of that glory,
    Only rocks and land will be there to hear it,
    And rivers will weep off red tears.

    ©nitintwr


    #I #stand #against #terrorism #christchurch #massacre @mirakee @hridaya @laughing_soul #ceesreposts @iammusaafiir @danny_a @birajv @bishal_sharma

    Read More

    Darnkness is prevailing

    Be the change you wish to see in the world.
    -M.K. Gandhi

    Let us unite together and stand against terrorism...

  • purpleenigma 155w

    Dedicated in memory of the innocent young lives of the sweet first grade students killed at Sandy Hook elementary School six years ago; 14th December 2012. Today, as students entered class, a horror relieved as authorities ordered the complete evacuation of the school due to a viable threat to safety and welfare.

    Six years ago today; twenty amazing young souls farewelled in the most unforgivable of circumstances and even today, no peace or solitude in memorial but rather further heartache.

    Bless everyone affected by the events at Sandy Hook Elementary School that fateful day.

    Background and text represent school colours - green and white.

    #mirakee #writersnetwork #writershub #writerstolli #writersreadersunite #writersunite #anniversary #sandyhook #massacre #tragedy #heartbreak #angels

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    Six Years

    Dedicated to the first grade students killed at Sandy Hook Elementary School six years ago today. You are so loved and will never be forgotten.

    Bright and bubbly
    Wild and rambunctious .
    Kind spirited and loving
    Proud and devoted.
    Talented and friendly
    A young soul with so much promise.
    Shy and reserved
    Playful and a fun loving.
    Adventurous
    Active
    Energetic
    The apple of our eye.
    Twenty:
    An innocent twenty.
    An angelic twenty.
    The beloved twenty.
    Charlotte / Daniel / Noah
    Jack / Jesse / Grace
    Olivia / James / Dylan
    Madeleine / Ana
    Jessica / Chase
    Catherine / Josephine
    Emelie / Benjamin
    Allison / Caroline
    And little
    Avielle
    Twenty beautiful babies
    Lives stolen on that day.
    Hearts torn asunder
    Families crippled by pain.
    For twenty studious children
    December 14th sealed their fate.
    Six years past
    We still remember
    Not just beauty
    But their names.

    ©purpleenigma

  • tossy_writes 158w

    In Memory Of Those Who Lost Their Life's In Plateau Killing

    How do I explain this feeling?
    How do I put this in words?
    It is like twisted roots growing in my heart
    Just days ago

    It looked like droplets of venom
    But now it has accumulated into a deluge

    I am upset
    I am in grieve
    I hear voices, strange voices tiny as the wind
    It is the voice of the slaughtered, whose blood washed the shores of earth
    Streaming in the land of plateau

    How long do we need to kill each other?
    How much more do we need to sacrifice to the thirst of superiority?

    Yet I feel disconnected but I also feel this whole outrage is insincere
    No one cares
    The leaders are nonchalant

    Just days ago, it was like droplets of venom
    But now it had accumulated into a deluge

    ©tossy_writes

  • art_dexterite 159w

    Palindrome

    Tears crawl back up their path into my eyes and scream unfolded in my throat.
    His last breathe slowly fills up his lungs.
    Classroom door is still unbroken.
    Smile still endures on his face.
    Friends are still there to make him feel joy.
    The school bell unplays on a loop.

    Sadness unfolds itself to my blinding anger.
    Doors unslam. Words claw back into back into my mouth, " I deserved a better child "
    settling in the fire of my gut.
    He had his last fight with me and i don't know that yet.
    He there repleted with thoughts-
    no one cares , no one love.
    The classroom door is still unbroken.
    I have a son still.

    _________
    Based on the Peshawar School Massacre 2014
    ©art_dexterite

  • tanisa 162w

    Chivalry has long been dead,
    massacred by people
    who claim love.
    But provide something that resembles indifference,lack of care and honey what
    love is love without care.
    ©tanisa

  • mahogany_eli 164w

    Veil of the Past

    A step and then a pause
    I was a woman wandering around the streets
    Without a reason, without a cause
    I hadn't rejected a marriage proposal
    Amidst the grandiose of a lavish ball
    Or realised in a Eureka moment
    That my heart had never been yours
    No, this wasn't a midlife crisis
    I wasn't thinking about quitting my job
    And I most certainly wasn't a vampire on the lookout
    To change the colour of my eyeballs
    Oh well, seems my attempts at humour are not working at all
    I was hoping to write about this on a happy note
    But these tears streaking down my face seem to have a mind of their own
    You see, these aren't ordinary streets I'm strolling around
    These are memory lanes that I've buried within me for far too long
    More than a decade later I'm passing familiar addresses
    But I look and I look and I look
    Yet I don't recognise even the gravel this place possesses
    Where did the chirruping birds go, and our grandfather's house we visited every fall
    That mango tree that stood tall,
    And that snarky neighbour whose windows we'd deliberately break
    With the swing of our bats, the crash of our balls
    The rugged road that led to the bazaar
    How they lured me, those candies in the jars
    How we'd hop around the puddles, dancing in the rain
    And the endless warnings to not return looking like a clown
    Would all end up being said in vain
    Each day a new discovery would be made
    Another butterfly to be chased, or a new place to hide Pitthu, under the Peepal tree's shade
    The taste of Nani's pickles, still lingers on my tongue
    That tangy lemon, gooseberry and especially the chili one
    And how the burning would still not go
    Even when endless glasses of water had been drunk
    The greatest thrill of life I choose
    Was watching the fight of a snake and a mongoose
    While the evenings would be filled with the cacophony of peacocks
    The flying of our kites, and rescuing the fallen ones, from the threatening ridges of the river rocks
    How I wish to hear those sounds once more
    Brush again, my fingers past those carved wooden doors
    Breathe in the aroma of Amma's spices
    Cackle like evil Shakuni, while we played the game of dices
    Now all I see around me are barren wastelands
    The debris of the walls that still remain
    Are smeared with bullet wounds and fading imprints of blooded hands
    They had come for us, just like Amma had said
    I vividly recall the mad rush, the agonized screaming as down these very streets we had fled
    The very last time I heard the squeaking of the iron gates close
    As the resounding gunshots filled the midnight with their echoes
    The next day, the bombings took place
    The war ravaged on, while death fed on the destruction it would create
    I know not why, yet I have returned
    As they build again, the places once burnt
    I wonder if these bricks could still heal,
    The part of my childhood, the massacre would always veil.

    ©mahogany_eli

  • christeenraposo 171w

    As they entered the empty, cleaned and whitewashed classroom, the walls that had witnessed this massacre, still echoed with the scream and cries of the victims, the deadly voices of the criminals and the gunshots that followed, silencing them all. 

    The air within these four walls was eerie and unsettling. The images of that day were imprinted deep into the very existence of the room. No amount of whitewash could ever change the blood red that trickled deeper into the gravel of the walls. 

    That day is the day humanity failed miserably. 

    ...

    Years down in history, the human race may fade, but this transgression will continue to be a huge black spot, that will upbeat any successes.

    ©christeenraposo

  • md_y_ja 174w

    The Final Massacre

    They Break-in, Ruined & Escaped.
    Innocent were emotionally harmed.
    Little child got hard impact sawing
    Fear phobia & tears falling
    This gave his life a goal full of revenge,
    He never regretted, lawa took the place of venge
    Achieving it being the only goal.
    ©md_y_ja