"We shall not cease from exploration and the end of all our exploring will be to arrive where we started
and know the place for the first time." (T S Eliot)
"A dark and chanted verse is what I am." (
Forough Farrokhzad)

Tuesday, January 7, 2014

HELL

Once again I am trying to sleep
And failing to rest
As another loud party
Spills on to the street.

Ugly shrieks of women
Hideous laughter of men
Inspired by alcohol
And who knows what else.

If I complained
It would achieve nothing.
I’d seem a puritan
Or much, much worse.

And there is no
Argument with fools.
So there can be no
Discussion with drunks.

How do I know
If the women are safe?
How do I know
If children are at risk?

Such a sadness
Overwhelms me
On nights like this.

What has become
Of my nation?
Where is the culture
My father fought
To preserve?

When did such tyrants
Conquer our land?
Why do I feel foreign
Washed up on dry sand?

Who is to blame?
Is it my fault?
Then let me die
Before they kill me.


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