Inscrutable questions

Despite that stygian night
the iridescent colors
of light
looked not so bright
because of the sight
of peoples plight

"Why this fight?"
asked the child,
who lost his day
as well as night;
whose world is all black
not even white;
whose gone all so quite
like someone with snake’s bite

I tried my best
to give him some respite
but failed to ignite
the indented mind;
his eyes still gleaming
with anticipation
awaiting a meaningful explanation;

it was my most difficult test
and I tried my level best
to put his entire dilemma
to rest;

I said: “child,
all this puts me in quagmire
for the reason behind this fire
is known
to no one else
but that so called god
who is said to reside
in every ones heart,
but sadly is no more
anyone’s part”

For a moment
he kept quite
as if trying, trying
to hark the placid nile;
trying to decipher
the wailing cries;
trying to correlate
the mysterious replies;
trying to become
some less juvenile

"Can this world ever unite?"
asked again
the valiant child,
full of dreams
full of sight
that’s the world
I dreamt tonight;

I said: It might
but all of us
have to be right,
right in our thoughts
right in our approach to life
only then
can we make this world
children’s delight

“So why don’t we do
what is right?
why don’t we live
what is life?”;
these were
the last thoughts
with which the child fought
for he now knew
the world had won
and he had lost
then: he had become absolutely docile
no more bombs
no more missiles
that was the unsparing end
of my exile

with tears in my eyes
I walked
away from him
in disguise
with asmileofabeguile
(It hurts but: "be practical says everyone")