All poetry has died;
It died witnessing lovers thrusting eternities into measured time slots,
Word by word, love-letters took off their yearning and became caveats,
Poems breathed like a war-stricken quiet child who’s never really alive.
All songs have fled;
They fled the hearts of women who opened their bosoms to trembling beloveds,
The women who softly held the callous hands of warriors & became goddesses,
The women with pearl eyes & silken skin, then, dissolved into glass shards.
Every prayer fell into darkness;
The darkness which maddens men to maim smiles of proud tulips,
The darkness which lives within the beasts who hunt with full belly but hungry hearts.
It’s as if you’ve looted all the treasures-
All the poetry, songs & prayers.
It’s as if the whole universe became one hot bruise & seeped into my soul.