Come home my child

Come home to my dreams, there’s no blast here, nor any drones, gone the tempests, withered the cyclones.

Come home my child,
school is over
It has been blown up
I know some of your mates have been taken
Their parents, shattered, battered, broken

Come home my child,
In the mountains, it has been snowing
flakes of bombs, flames so white,
Shards and shrapnel, snowballs bright

In the name of God some slaughter
In the name of God others fight
we the people, we the fodder
Live to face our gory plight

To enormous events we have been destined
First the poverty, then the quakes,
Then the militants, now the drones,
Come home my child, far from the agony
Away from the war with no end in sight

Come home to my dreams
There’s peaceful green all around
and flowers wild
Hues of blue, serene,
and cool breezes mild

There’s no blast here, nor any drones
Gone the tempests, withered the cyclones
In peace eternal I wait for thee
I pray you stay safe, till we meet
Whenever, wherever that may be.

Read more by Adil here.