The night smoke carries out the riots of innocents,

The city is a menace to many unknown events.

The cries, the screams are still there.

To the bodies lying low that once had life.

Crimson paint covers the night of 18th July.

Bodies running numb and cold to a deadly scene.

They're deafened and blind by the power now,

Who to call for help when the pain makes us scream?

Blackout spread to even the last corners of the country,

Blood stains sweep over the red and green.

Chills running down my spine,

With the sense of feeling unsafe in my homeland which I once called "MINE"…

Deathly hallows spread through the air.

Where once commoners' laughter smeared.

Midsummer has never felt so much cold,

With the ghosts of the sufferers writing their stories untold.

Raviya Humaira is an aspiring writer from Dhaka, Bangladesh and an undergraduate student of Media and Journalism. She enjoys expressing her feelings through art and poetry, and her work can be found on various online platforms. Additionally, she participated in Slam Poetry Nights.