I sit here under the warm winter sun, flicking through the pages of the memoir of your pain,
i see the hungry bellys, and sins on the name of God,
I can't reach you there but your agony and cries of pain haunt me all the while,
I am desperate to help so I just close my eyes, fold my hands and ask my lord to grant you peace, love and harmony.
I pray that all the bristles of war heal as a cold winter pass by.
I have never been to your land but we share the same Sun and the Moon.
Today I offfer the dropp of tear to my lord to free you from pain and I know my wish would be granted.
I know your streets would be full of life again, I know you will return to where you belong.
For once all the demons of fear will burn in the divine fire of love and humanity will dance till the eternity.

Richa Tiwari Joshi

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/bristles-of-war/