Black Hawks

 "Two Black Hawks"

The day breaks open like an over-incubated egg into brisky and hot halves,

Perfect timing to serve vengeance like cold ice cream,

And bury the hatchet with the hands that bore it first.

The hands that dealt the first gruesome blow,

The hands smeared with the blood of innocent citizens,

Dragged into the cauldrons of death by religious bigotry. 

The Black Hawks swooped with precision and mastery on their targets

Years of sweats and swears

Have prepared them for this flight;

Their target hides in the haven of forgotten sins 

far away from the scene of his crime ,

Praying to a bloodthirsty god

With a blood-stained subha

Held within trembling fingers 

Death came by the first shot

And several shots rained

To wet the parched throats

Of dead voices calling for revenge.

Dedicated to the victims of 9/11 attack