There were eighteen

There were eighteen children last week, many of them infants.
They died before reaching safe camps.
Their deaths were ‘preventable’ says a report.
They would have lived if helped earlier in their exodus.

Were they just ‘Syrian’ infants? Or just infants?
Forced to flee from their own land. Forced to freeze and die.
No food, no shelter, and open sky raining fire.
It’s reported: ‘The situation in Al Hol is dire’.

The caliphate collapsed, and the dogs of war were let loose.
They tore the flesh, spilled the blood and chewed on human bones.
The god on earth, the lord of the States, did his best to help.
The world shed two tears, and half, and sent wishes,

From its heart,
as they died.

Rajnish Mishra is a poet, writer, translator and blogger born and brought up in Varanasi, India and now in exile from his city. His work originates at the point of intersection between his psyche and his city. He edits PPP Ezine. Read other articles by Rajnish.