An Aura of Occupation

We live in the aura of occupation
Where innocence is suspicious
Where humanity is at stake
Where abhor procures hate
Where love has no sense
Where justice has no doors

We live in the aura of corruption
Where we meet stockbrokers
Where we pay for words
Where we get sold to ours

We live in the aura of fears
Where death happens routinely
Where luggage are taken by force
Where we need an identity of ours

We live in the aura of discrimination
Where we are labelled as others
Where we are always looked as strangers
Where rights get snatched of livers

We live in the aura of agitation
Where peace is written only on papers
Where humility never ever decors
Where doors are open for misdemeanors