The Massacre at Dawn

The signs were ominous,
She had been eying them for a long time now,
Friends and relatives were talking about it,
The neighbours had undergone a similar treatment a few days ago,
Time stood painfully still,
Days and nights seemed inconsequential,
Food supplies and water levels were aplenty,
But death seemed an imminent threat,
During the harsh summers and the chilly winters,
They stood strong,
Not asking much,
But disciplining themselves and growing in number,
It was as if they weren't even there,
The world seems to push them over,
They, who don't seem pretentious,
They, who don't act brash,
They didn't smell like a rose,
Or look like the Birds of Paradise,
But they were an industrious lot,
Providing essentials for others' vanity,
One fine morning,
The Cacti lay uprooted from their sleepy abode,
And that's when I saw,
The massacre at dawn.