Skip to content
vikas chandra
Poems, Songs and More ……………..
Menu
About
Tag:
bloodshed
The Hands That Hold The Hideous Guns
The Spuds We Stew In Deep Dark Rum
When We Too Fell For A Lost Wasteland
When A Bullet Flirts With Every Head
Lest You Be A Martyr, O My Son !
I Am A Naked Satire
Not A Patch Of Land But A Shred Of Soul
…The Sons We Lost …
… Lest Time Forget Tiananmen …
Why Men Love War !!!
Posts navigation
←
Older posts
Loading Comments...
Write a Comment...
Email (Required)
Name (Required)
Website