When Dead Stars Still Bleed Light
They told us it was just another dawn,
But the mountains of Pahalgam knew the truth of gone.
It was just another day they said until the earth split open and the heavens cried.
Until flames devoured the marrow of dreams,
And darkness curdled into ash and screams.
The valleys wailed with a molten breath,
Tears scalding red, birthing only death.
Blood gushed but all it had were strangling threads of dread.
The stars above shuddered in fright,
Too shattered to burn, too frozen for light.
The price of hatred carved into their bones
Forced to pay for a crime they didn't own.
Innocent travelers, slaughtered in nameless wars,
Ghosts sewn into the earth, stitched into scars.
And here we wait for answers in hollowed halls,
As if justice could mend these ruined walls.
But vengeance pirouettes through blood-slicked streets,
Wearing crowns of sorrow, dragging blistered feet.
Hatred hums through the blackened veins,
Braiding grief into love’s remains.
Loss no tongue can conjure a word so cursed,
No ink can bleed enough to quench this thirst.
It is not merely death, but something worse:
A silencing of songs that once broke the universe.
Let the valleys collapse, let the rivers drown.
Let the weight of this grief pull the world down.
Let every heart shatter and every cry ignite,
For when dead stars bleed,
They do not fade 
They burn, they blaze, they tear through night.
Today, they shine a terrible light.

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