Blast, Blast, Blast Poem by Dr. Yogesh Sharma

Blast, Blast, Blast,
On those innocent lives, O God!
And I would that my pen could not write,
The anger that arise in this pod.

O, see for the priest's boy,
That he chants with other devotees at pray!
O, well for the teacher’s lad,
That he sings in his class, happy and gay!

But the cruel state’s brute play with toy
To their safe vaults, without any chill;
But O for the hatred of a hidden mind,
And the sound of countless blasts that is still!

Blast, Blast, Blast,
At the foot of that unknown, O God!
Will never here again to me or to thee,
But the tender grace of those lives that is dead.