I Am Not Glad Of Another Death Poem by Ponniah Ganeshan

My Lord,
Why do you wage war against me
Killing me, my children
I am innocent and unarmed
See the wounds
You have inflicted in my heart
Heal my wounds my lord
Without burying me alive.

My men going out for their daily bread
Fall dead
In their fields
In their streets
And in the schools too,
Our children always in fear
Meeting their early grave.
Your guns have no brains
Five feet and 35 inches
Are the long and the wide
It's true
Come I'll all the grief prove.

Am I your enemy my lord?
Why do you wage war against me
Not a single day breaks
Without death or blood.
The death which has become delicious
And which we carry every minute.

Low hangs the moon
At times, she forgets to come
And even when she comes
Not a single word she speaks
Silently moving, moving and vanishing
Not a single street
Escaped an exception being bathed
In the blood
In the tears.

Ask my morning birds
When did they sing last
Ask my children
When did they laugh last
And the moon and the stars
Shone and twinkled with happy smile.

Broken are my bows
And the honors I offered
My Lord,
Let me speak to Lord Buddha
He too is in pain of His heart
To whom you worship, without shame
Offering flowers soaked in my blood
Let Him see me and my house
Which darkens with sorrow.

Why do you wage war against me
Am I your enemy?
No I am not.
I am as dead by the war
Declared upon me.
Death closes us all
It may be the drop of my blood
It may be the drop of your blood
My tears and blood, already moved
The heaven and the earth
Yet, my Lord,
You do believe
I am not glad of another death