A little late though. Sweet 2K-16.

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(image curtesy: google)

It has been a wondrous time they say

A time of prosperity and no dismay

It has been a year of blessings and cheers

And with lights and food they welcome another year

But oh let me say something unsaid

That it has rather been a year of red.

Let us not forget the countless lives

That in the name of law, have been sacrificed

Let us not forget the graves we dug

While our loved ones died for someone’s smug

Their countless bodies like roses spread

All in the days of the year of red.

The blaze and crack of these fireworks

Scares the innocent child for the worse

For each thud reminds him of the sounds

Of bullets raging from merciless rounds

For the firework that now illuminates the skies

Has burned his home and conflagrated his life

So tonight in lament I will bow my head

For all that was, in the year of red.

See that mother, wailing since yesterday

She buried her only son in the old cemetery

Hear the helpless cries of a three year old

“I will watch you from heaven”, his father had told.

Feel the grief of the parted love of this newly wed

Has it not been, for all, a year of red?

I am no preacher nor speak for powerful men

But I speak my heart, through paper and pen

I make no claims of wrong and right

But oh how I forget their poor plight

Without hope or help, not even bread.

For them all it has been a year of red.

So much grief, so much loss

All this destruction, without any cause

No regard for precious lives

All for money and hiding lies

No heart, no pain, blatant bloodshed

All this, in the year of red.

-Iflah Laraib