I often wonder what drives young men to take to arms. I realise they are driven towards a wrong cause by some men who were misled too. In the following lines I try to depict the scene of terrorist who is embarking on his task, in the hope that men do not take recourse by such measures for there are people as well as a power that awaits to make amends. Cowed down by ways of his life in a corner he sits scared, With folded hands and open palms, head bowed down in prayer, Misled by his virtues, his future on the floor, A voice inside that’s telling him, to settle all his scores. For tragedies yet to happen, all miseries he must stall, Rise for the common cause, answer Allah’s call, What he won’t know is that his heart is cold and still, And all that he plans about, is against Allah’s will. Misery in his bloodshot eyes, his lips spell out a curse, Misunderstood, oft repeated a common holy verse, Deep in prayer with beads of sweat upon his brow, he summons his men miss bred, Heaven has been
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