THRIVENI C. MYSORE

fate's Ploy

I huddled in a Church with fear

With nothing but my four Children
It was  the holy time of the year
None expected violent action.

I was putting my kids to sleep
When I heard the gunfire
Herding my young boys like sheep
I fought with my inner ire.

What is with religion and region?
Is killing others a question or an answer?
Won’t my Lord be hurt to hear the forsaken?
For, wail and cry was now the midnight choir. 


 Fate’s ploy is so wild and heartless,
It made us wait one more year for cheerful Christmas.