A drizzle of blood
from the skies burst
touched his lips
and quenched his thirst
Was he a vampire,
a zombie, a poltergeist
Satan, phantom
banshee, extortionist?
who sucked innocent blood
and wet his throat
to inspire men
with hate and loath
His bombs, missiles and gun barrels
vanished cities with  blast
and the eyes of each city shone
with the ghosts of its past
Each man, each woman,
each child of every faith
vowed to strike back
and avenge their death
And at last as though heavens raged
in silence with interminable zest
in secrecy they sent him where
no man in peace does ever rest
Is this the emotion that oozes
when you hear his name
forgetting latent virtues
in sheer disdain
how many of you agree to that
upon which the poem insists
I may, I may not, but
isn’t there a heart in every terrorist?
they say probably not
-Akanksha Gupta

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