Pain of Humanity

 The day is lit with a torch

And

Sun has gone down the shade

For

The Violence has marred its march

Blood is shattered all across

Red is the color of even the moss

Culling humans is in the season

Death is drooling for this reason

The day is lit with the torch

For

The pen has started to scorch

And 

It has missed the beat of its march

Ink is spread on the floor

Thinking what pen is writing for

They call terrorist as martyr

Pen helps them in their satire

Sun is hiding now in the shades

For 

Terror strikes using even a spade

And

Human Rights are called to cover the fad

Blood is shattered on the grass

Politics has become terror's class

Culling humans is in the season

Politicians are minting on this reason

The day is lit with a torch

Culling humans is today's march

The pen has started to scorch

Death is now standing in the porch!!