O little cherubs of Peshawar
I am sorry for thee: thou departed from this world too soon
To thy heavenly abode
But I am content: for thou shalt at least be safe in heaven
That is bereft of earthly demons.
I am sorry for thee: thou must
have gone through immense pain
And suffering after being ruthlessly shot by mindless beasts
Who came to thy school on a bloody feast
And inflicted gaping wounds on thy little, fragile bodies.
What was thy fault, thou must have wondered?
Thou wert good at studies; thou wouldst do homework on time;
Thou wert disciplined and punctual too
Besides being messengers of peace.
Thou wert no children of a lesser God
Thou wert endowed with eyes, hands, organs, dimensions,
senses, affections, passions.
Thou wouldst feel pain when hurt
Thou wouldst bleed, when pricked; thou wouldst laugh when tickled.
But O little cherubs of Peshawar
I am sorry for thee: thou wert faced with
A stony adversary, inhuman wretches
Uncapable of pity, void and empty
From any dram of mercy.
I am sorry for thee
Thou deserved nothing but peace and
amity
And a world where the kingdom of God prevailed, instead of Satan’s, alas.
Verily, I am sorry for us: for what’s this world without thy smiles, giggles,
and chuckles?
What’s this world without thine innocence and truth?
Nothing, my angels, nothing.
It is barren without thee, devoid of its raison d’être
Wherefore should it even exist now?
I for one do not feel like living in this brutal world anymore.
For my heart bleeds for thee. Adieu!
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