Nice poetry everyone! Truly inspired by the Sajhaites' ability to write poetry wherever and whenever possible :), here is my trial version: Fear crawls under the carpet the latched door doesn't stop shuddering a voice loud and harsh echoes in the room and seeks refuge horror flings open like an automated machine While Rama clings to her mother a soul gets dragged like a carcass in seconds something is missing one more maltreatment, and a letter of false justification The hole they?ve dug to throw men deep and black, down by Chiso Khola yet the masquerading consolations she receives against the naked tortures the trees have witnessed quietly the haplessness that she has stopped counting on and the slaughtering being practiced like a ritual? could it get worse? Rattling of pots early morning the daily chores for the heck of living memories that haunt her while she latches the door again it was the Maoists it will be the army next she just holds Rama tight and stares at the latched door.