Forgive Me, My Lord.

By Shubham Jhunjhunwala

For I have sinned to not believe in your life,

As my mother slit her throat with a knife.

Money and food was always a gamble,

As my life has been nothing but a scramble.

Father has left to find us support,

As this is nothing but a nonsensical sport.

My brother's sick and sister's hungry,

As people pray for a smile as a country.

Each and every life is growing soft,

We will pay you anything at any cost.

Prayers and stomachs are nothing but choking,

You are only but war-provoking.

Seasons have passed searching for food,

Times are hard, we conclude.

Now, all we do is slaughter our friends,

Only to meet the delirious ends.

If not pulses, we eat flesh and blood,

As animals become extinct in that flood.

First animals, and now the forests burn,

Soon, the fishes, for water they will yearn.

The air is nothing but poison and smoke,

As the world ignores yet another who spoke.

Stars and galaxies, we wish to overthrow,

Yet, we don't find meaning in our own lives, although.

The food, the water, the air, is all but gone,

As we refused to take steps and act-on.

Now, my father is back empty and broke,

As my brother is covered with a mourning cloak.

Between these episodes of hunger and death,

Maybe next, I'll succumb to my breath.

So, tell me, Lord, why should I pray to your villainy,

When I, myself, have lost all dignity.

You may be real and all-pervading to many,

While, for this lifetime, I have seen plenty.

Yes, you are adored,

Just forgive me, my Lord.

By Shubham Jhunjhunwala