Has Satan roared, in the garb of God?
Hear a lie screaming out, on truth’s behalf
It’s the same blood, and the same Jihad
Which lasts to have, one more, last laugh!
When azans die out, in the passion’s din
And a faith churns out, an unforeseen sin
Then a child cries out, on a lonely street
With bowels in hands, to drink and eat!
Whose faith is it, that’s deaf to squeals
Of brethren lost in, mass-hysterias’ zeal!
How they stand on, shattered Achilles’ Heels
On the debris of, faith’s bygone bastille!
Yet a one more here, and a one more there
Fear sows its seeds, in faith’s disguise
Why God chose to be, a divine puppeteer
And man his minion, cut down to size!
Still the arms do rise, in His thankless love
How a faith fills up, that God’s vacuum!
An ounce of solace, tons of blood, to shove
© 2016 Vikas Chandra