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Priya Singh



Priya Singh


Who To Blame?

Who To Blame?

1 min 174 1 min 174

The sky is darkening,

All the figures are retreating back to their home.

While she lays there on the streetwalk,

In her messy hair and worn-off clothes.

Those eyes had not seen food for the last two days.

They say there's a war going on in her country.

People are flocked like a herd of sheep.

Her eyes last cried when she lost her son in miscarriage,

Her daughter was abducted,

And her family was killed in front of her own eyes.

The house she called 'home'.

Built with years of love, laughter, and pain

It laid shattered into pieces on the ground,

Blown off with little sparks of hate.

She ran away,

Not to save her life;

But from the memories, which kept on haunting her day after day....night after night.

Peace seemed a fantasy;

a vision never to exist in reality.

The chaos outside or the chaos inside her,

Neither were at peace; 

neither were settling down.

Once lived in grace&glory,

Now lives on scraps & garbages.

Once lived between praises &love,

Now gets kicked the door to door; 

Trampled &shouted upon.

Is it fate?


Or the cruel world?

Should I blame the gods up above?


The beasts down below?

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