The below poem won the first prize from WHPA (World Harmony and Peace Association) on the topic “Gloom”. Rules were to write a 12-16 line poem.
Walls – that once in the heart of the city stood,
Crumbled- stone and gravel, pack of cards, dead wood,
Rooms that once held the tinkling notes of joyous laughter,
Choked – silence echoed loud, a stillness; no more the pitter-patter…
Shh h… Listen hard, an incessant hum, a moaning sound,
A stifled wail, a gasp, a caged cry; from the parched mound,
Her knees bent, fingers entwined toes, her eyes green;
A deep chasm in those glassy grays; a screeching void seen…
The rosewood table, hummus and kubus served; on the roof- A Crash!
Rivulets black, trickled down the bloody gash,
They rolled, for her; not for them that had been slain,
In a wink had gone, for them, there had been no pain…
Her mother still smiled from the dust, her father bore a frown,
Her brother Ahmed, still wore his yellow birthday crown…
Alone! in the city of doom,
She stood, shivering; blanketed by crippling gloom…
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