Poetry

Harbouring terrorists, at the dead of night
we found the right dilapidated village,
terrorists were afraid to further war wage,
the stars, the yellow moon shone very bright,
and in armoured cars we were geared to fight,
all the villagers were scared, had no courage;
harbouring terrorists

I had no great sympathy with their plight,
as to farmers and women they did damage
were planting landmines at almost any age,
huddled together the were a sore sight,
harbouring terrorists.