The day is lit with a torch
And
Sun has gone down the shade
For
The Violence has marred its march
Blood is shattered all across
Red is the color of even the moss
Culling humans is in the season
Death is drooling for this reason
The day is lit with the torch
For
The pen has started to scorch
And
It has missed the beat of its march
Ink is spread on the floor
Thinking what pen is writing for
They call terrorist as martyr
Pen helps them in their satire
Sun is hiding now in the shades
For
Terror strikes using even a spade
And
Human Rights are called to cover the fad
Blood is shattered on the grass
Politics has become terror’s class
Culling humans is in the season
Politicians are minting on this reason
The day is lit with a torch
Culling humans is today’s march
The pen has started to scorch
Death is now standing in the porch!!