Maybe

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Diversity was welcomed with open arms

Excavation of culture

Callous shift of target.

Brutal weeding out, all in a day’s work

Maybe retaliation will bring harmony.

Rushing headlights. Swarms heading to work.

Many clumped together. Few reclining in wheeled enclosures.

`Sir’ ignores the deprived tot tapping on his car’s window

Maybe pity just got locked inside.

Oscillating snakes filled with people

Inches away, tear-filled eyes stare.

She stands unconsoled, suffocating in the crowd

Maybe invisible compassion wiped her tears

A steep ladder, the struggle to rise

She lies below them, to get above them

Ignores jeers but weeps amidst success

Maybe a virtuous virgin mourns inside

Their clasped hands A daily ritual.

Strings pulling them in different directions

Time wins the race. One becomes two.

Maybe their hearts still walk together.

Spirited youth injected with animosity

He smears his hands with innocent blood

Regretless. Fearless. `Knowlegeless’. He dies

Maybe death awoke his human side.

Torn by terrorism, choked by corruption

Drenched in blood, yet the city rises.

Is it Spirit? Or Strength? Or Resilience?

Maybe there’s no other choice.

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