Poem – ASIFA

This poem written by someone articulates all the emotions raging within us so well!

You froze the ink in my pen Asifa,
you made my blood run cold
your face, your eyes, a question, Asifa,
these wounds, both new and old

I stare at his face, a regular man
he too was once a child,
what sickness came upon his brain,
this madness, rage run wild,

Does evil find the hollow hearts of men
and to fell it, he must die?
What hate, what lust, what drove him there?
does it live in you and i?

This shame, this anger,
this sharing of grief,
will we keep this moment alive,
will her death, her pain,
her life, her name,
remind us, always of why-

Of why there is scant meaning,
in gods or texts or lands,
in leaders and their platitudes
in our outstretched, praying hands

If we in all our wisdom,
in this land where religion thrives,
cannot protect our weakest,
their innocence and their lives,
what use then are our idols,
what use our holy books
why visit temples, churches,
go to mosques, our praying nooks,

Instead, let’s look at our mirrored eyes,
for the humanity that we seek,
for the protectors of the voiceless,
for the voices of the weak,

Let’s change our songs of them and us,
and create instead a life,
where our thoughts, our words and actions,
build a world removed from strife,

Where an eight year old Asifa
can roam her meadows free,
her horses grazing beside her,
in the shade of a summer tree

And the world is a gentler, kinder place
because we’ve chosen to make it so,
and a mother doesn’t cling to a little dress,
for her little girl who’s no more.