Pushing Through The Window Panes Poem by Mohammad Younus

Pushing through the window panes,
The sun sprinkled blood on my face,
inside my bedroom to wake me up,
I got up quietly and saw my native village,
Echoing with grief-stricken shrieks,
I went out to the village graveyard:
I never thought to witness in my life,
Such a gruesome scene of mass burial,
What man's land is this graveyard?
No man's land: the crowded home of martyrs—
Known and unknown -corpses piled one upon one,
The bereaved mothers claim them all;
Insisting to tarry a bit and not get home,
Waiting for identification of...
...mutilated and decayed bodies,
For Forensic and DNA report!
Then, I came back to my wailing room,
With my heart full of sorrow, seething with rage,
Began mumbling a Mourning song -
To commemorate grievous killing of martyrs:
Martyrs, you fought to end the terribletyranny,
I think of you, faithful young freedom fighters,
Your blood shall not go in vain,
Your sacrifice shall not be forgotten,
For in the morning you went out to fight,
And at night you did not return

Mykoul