‘Poem attempt’ for HWSTMR

Count till; oh wait sir, till twenty five and three,

eenie meenie miny mo, then a killing spree.

Dead or alive, do you know,

What you’re going to be?

Screams here, heard from there,

All you do here is flee


Rivers of bodies, streams of tanks

Khaki cluster,
animal in ranks

Shells like pomegranates hurled at two,

Mother’s vermillion bleeds, so do you.

Father will go to the distant land,

Vultures grasp sister’s breast in hand.

Oh brother, what will you do?
Sun might shine one day too.


But for now flee at once

The bird will follow, the bird will protect.