There is no choice.

            We are brought to a dead end sometimes, where there is no choice,

             Not even to express our views, and even not to raise our voice,

             This is the nature's containment on wrong human deeds,

             To such a level that even, breathing is seized.

             Is it the Nature's deed or an evil's  malafide intention,

             The question is this, which needs interpretation,

             The living falling like inanimate, looks too sad,

             To those who passed away, I have respect to add.

            There is no choice before us than to sit back and pray,

            For those who became the death's hay,

            How helpless have we grown, that can't extend a helping hand,

            What can be done, going closer is banned !

          Author                                           Prityarth