Early in the morn, into the ooze
There lay three sacks;
All tied tight with thin cords of polythene.
The sacks were muddy, blood seeped out
Through the fiber of jute.
Around them were pools of blood,
Mingling into the oozy contents,
The men, women and children went
And came by unheeded as nothing happened.
At last men of law came in uniforms
In haste with a hooting ambulance,
And they loaded the stained sacks,
Rushed towards the police station,
And placed them into a room in the basement.
The sacks contained mutilated bodies,
Minced hands and heads, brains and bellies,
Of a sister and two brothers, they were murdered
For no guilt but for being innocent.
No one claimed them their own,
And they buried them as heirless,
Into the remote graveyard of municipality.
No one is to attend their graves
Now they sleep side by side uninterrupted,
When the sun shines their white epitaphs
Shine too with the inscriptions,
‘Unity, Faith and Discipline: ’ the divine principles.
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Comments about this poem (Three Graves by Muhammad Shanazar )
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