I sat alone with my poetry book,then,
I thought of writing something..
About those mothers who lost their sons...
About those who lost their husbands..
About those who lost their fathers..
About those pallet Victims who lost
Their eye sight ....
Many things striked in my mind..
All I was hearing were those beats of mine,that were full of impetus..
I felt nothing like that could express the permenant wounds present in their heart...
They are left with the pain which has no medicine..
The tears falling from their eyes..
Are not tears,but real red blood

- Ànu