Hallow shell, disjointed pieces of life,
Tortured men, raped women, distorted village,
A precious possession of mine now.

Soaking self with water,
Water red in colour,
Piercing eyes with eagle’s claw,
This is what I am.

Devouring sons of my own,
Inflecting injuries in accident or by missing,
As if witch casts her spell.

Plaguing land by devilish deeds,
Stabbing, rapping and burnt alive,
This is what I am.

Looting self as if a hypocrite,
Dwelling in ignorant bliss of honourable one,
Posing like an iron wall.

Swallowing self inside heart,
Oozing blood white in colour,
Wondering over game of fate.

Laughing inside at the funeral,
Now habitual to mark the day,
As a condition set for sun to rise,
This is what I am.

Editor's Note

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