Honor Killing: No Honour Poem by ATUL CHANDRA SARKAR

They dragged Love out,
From the darkest hide,
They abused and scorned,
Molesting with deride;
With sticks and stones,
They lynched the two,
Strangers and relatives,
Hounded them too;
They trampled dreams,
They crushed emotion,
They bruised and hurt,
They exulted commotion;
"Blacken their faces",
Some proposed with delight;
Some said, "stone them",
Some said, "ignite";
Some relished the idea,
Of tying them to a tree,
Then lashing them until,
From life they were free;
Wounded and fractured,
Wet with blood and sweat,
They panted for mercy,
They gasped for breath;
Blurred with tears they looked,
At them who were their very own,
So ruthless, so unforgiving,
Gashing souls, breaking bone;
Two helpless, hopeless, weaklings,
Unlocked from their embrace,
Faced a mob that extolled Love,
But set an example of bloody disgrace;
Butchered and in tatters they lie,
Without waves in cardiac line,
Their souls soar high up somewhere there,
Their tale becomes a forgotten headline.