The Terrorist

When one whispers "terrorist",
What materializes
In to our heads,
Is men with cold, cold laughs,
Blood thirsty eyes,
The AK47s, bullets, making their beds,
Strapped rifles decorating their torsos,
Grenades, rage, hatred, and violence,
Tyrants,
Adhering to thickest mist, tallest trees, driest deserts and the most turbulent seas,
And so it goes.

What is ignored,
Or is never explored,
Is the centuries of oppression,  Colossal weights,
Thrusted over their heads,
That led to these high pressured
Volcanic eruptions.

The voices that were thrown
In to sound proof rooms,
Buried in sands of neglect,
Suppressed, denied, muffled,
Forced to explode in to booms.

Their empty bellies,
Milkless cattle,
Burned out fields,
Cracked tongues,
Trust broken to peels, 
That made them easy
Recruitment deals.

Rebellious youth yearning for
Change,
Some jobless,  some homeless,
Some aimless,  some nameless,
Searching for answers,
Taking one last leap of faith,
At misguided ideologies.

Places of agitation,
Viewed as political trump cards
Rather than displeased inhabitants,
People with needs, emotions, And families.

Populace stabbed by policies
That favor popularity over
Humanity,
Economic development over the
Survival of minorities,
Making living hard, and dying easy.

Terrorists are destructive Vibrations,
But they spread from roots of Injustice,
We have chosen to bomb these agitations,
Which are merely ripples,
The last disorderly cry for help,
And curse their
Epicenters (the terror outfits and their ideologies),
Which are just guises.
It is their hypocenters
(Reason for them to exist),
Which are forgotten, never spoken about, 
that must be localized,
Up rooted and neutralized,
To find peace and harmony.