Written By: Sukriti Makhija.
(Dedicated to Peshawar Attack Victims)
A normal school day, or was it?
For sure it seemed like one.
Children gathered in the amphitheater,
When off went the guns.
As they waited to get home sooner or later,
A small boy hid in the corner,
Afraid of his executioner,
And afraid he should be.
He wanted to flee,
But he knew,
That the chances were few.
He looked around,
And saw nothing but bodies going down.
He wished he had stayed home,
Under the blanket of security,
Her mother's warm arms, purity.
The gunshots sounded like fireworks,
But there weren't any happy sparks.
Soon, the noises stopped,
But as he stood up, his heart dropped.
He was the only one left standing,
Or was it a misunderstanding?
He heard a click,
Which sounded like the devil's walking stick.
He turned around,
Stunned by what he witnessed.
A man held his gun to the head of his teacher,
Dearest, " please let her go! ",
The boy whispered.
The man laughed and said " Oh!",
He let the lady go.
Grabbed the boy although,
The lady cried and cried,
Begging for the men to leave them alive,
He said, "Your men didn't let ours' survive!"
Two more shots were heard,
And the boy's vision blurred,
As soon as he heard,
"Allah ho Akbar,"
Just like the other 143,
His eyes closed forever.