O Orlando June 12,2016 Poem by Santosh Bakaya

Lost in the dark woods, we share your grief, O Orlando!
Going round and round in an endless circle of an inferno!

A party pulsed on, as the music of love played on
Suddenly staccato bursts merged with the music
To become music of a violent sort.
Vibrantly danced the lovers as the music pounded
Confounding the confusion.

This hate-music played on, although not the food of love
Aggravating this spine -chilling shooting slaughter.
Soon after, one bent down to pick up the debris of his son's laughter
Crumpled it lay, blood-splattered.
The notes of love cruelly scattered, bruised and battered.

Lovers, a moment back, so happy and gay
Now, buried under an avalanche of tears.
Grief and fear. Shocked, stunned and speechless.
Unanswered cellphones beeped, as hatred seeped
Into entrails. "If you are alive, raise your hand, "
The survivors called out to the bodies sprawled
As prayers inchoate and unfinished, froze on lips.
Some hid in the bathroom, some under the bar
Nothing could be more bizarre.

"I gonna die" texted a son from the washroom.
"U still there? U still there? "
Mom texted back.
No, he was not there, his pulse had stopped
Along with so many others.
Humanity's pulse had stopped too.
It was dead, couldn't raise its hand, alas!

Candles doused, darkness reigned.
Why should weapons of mass murder be so easy to obtain
Don't they merely lead to anguish and pain?
Why should hate kill love? Why?

Lost in the dark woods, we share your grief, O Orlando!
Going round and round in an endless circle of an inferno!