Pakistan Flood Poem

Pakistan’s giver of life becomes disaster and spreads ever so faster.
A river flows peacefully and the victims die fearfully.
Killing the poor becoming a death store.
In the world’s eyes Pakistan dies.
Satan laughs as water covers like a scarf.
Time befriends the flood and drowns the living in blood.
Anymore cries left, asks the water so it can slaughter.
“Not a sound son mother,” cries to her son as death becomes his run.