We, The Messengers of Peace

They say that, all sad people like poetry, happy people like songs. I reckon that all this while my life never really gave me an indication to turn towards poetry. Although Whitman and Tennyson have been long revered by me as demigods, I never thought of foraying myself into this divine land they call “Poetry”. However, today was different. Today’s morning was different, rather. What I witnessed today wasn’t anything new. Forgive me for being less on emotions here, but what I woke up to today morning was another news of a terrorist attack. And what set this one apart from the rest of them was the sheer brutality by which it was committed. I still am trying to fathom the adversities and the torment these vile creatures are wanting to subject us to. 

Today was a day I was left severely grief stricken. I don’t know what makes this day different from the others, because every day is a day of loss for us. Every day a piece from humanity’s soul is lost. I for sure know one thing, that God never wanted us to be like this. We are no more his progeny. What we are, are abominable beings who are condemning ourselves to our own hell. While I stand today witness to one of the most heinous act humanity could possibly be responsible for, I proclaim that our end isn’t very far. For all we can hope is that this end be pushed further in the future by erasing the animosity and the reproach we have for our brothers, and we continuously strive to make this earth a better place. It is not the inspiration that Whitman or Tennyson have provided me, but the sheer levels of hopelessness that humanity has reached to, that has encouraged me to pen this poetry. Only if we could be more gentle creatures! 

The day was good, while I arose from my slumber, for all I could see were the rays of the sun,

Oh! What newness, what cheer they bring with them, only if I could see them all day long.

But this day was to be different, these rays were to be short-lived,

I was told of a story so cruel, the elation was all wiped out in a bit.

There I stood, witness to the monstrosity of humanity,

Where is it that we were leading us to, was this the end of it?

I wanted to be wrong, I wanted to be told otherwise,

But how could I be so juvenile, and force myself to be so unwise.

God made us all, he made us good human beings,

But never would he have thought, of all this pain and suffering.

Divided were we about his name, groups had been made,

We were the masters, and he the puppet now, and we excelling at our games.

These games were bloody; it would take lives.

A gun, a truck or even a human would suffice.

Were we not brothers and sisters, was that not what God told us?

Why were these times so scary, so dreary, so tumultuous?

I stand here a witness, to this mayhem being made,

All with a hope that humanity would not eventually fade.

I think of a better future, a future filled with love and harmony,

Where we live together as friends, harbouring no animosity.

This hope is not misplaced, for we have always risen against odds,

Tough have been the times, but when have we not?

Let’s rise with a strong heart, together we must be,

Because we are the messengers, the messengers of peace.