The mortars are dripping bloom
Like dews in the morning of doom
We poise ‘em at the castle of waste
To vent angst of humanity’s foul taste
Gun powder dripped red to the portal
With fires of odium ignited to be fatal
But ere retreat is done o’er battle line
Feast of ill fate festered amidst to dine
The hunted and the hunters were hunted!
Our artilleries as against us and foes plighted
Like a plain overrun by swarm of angry locust
We felled heedlessly like tress; the holocaust
Whilst we, the survivors tell this stale tales
For no weaponry can annihilate humanities
But would our world survive this holocaust
Of ontological bias of dysfunctional caste?