Thursday, May 26, 2016

Paris under Siege

We live, we die, we fall and we rise
Its life, that’s why the surprise
Some meaningless for political desire
That’s why so much petty and dire

All are not alike, Muslim or France
One frightens child the other trance
A shimmering beauty brisk coffee and eat
Marble building or roaring in the streets
Boys and girls love and feats
In France; where her implements exact,
With which she calculates, computes and scans,
All distance, motion, magnitude, and now
Measures an atom and girds a world

Muslims in cheap, don’t have country still
For France shall bow the ruler at her will
Of riot ascends above their loftiest tower
And injury and outrage, and when night
Darkness, terror, despair and fight
Flown with insolence and divinity
Divorced from reason and not law worthy
Disease, for fleeting pleasure foul remorse
Fire, burned out babies, dust and boulder
Now in contiguous drops the flood comes down
Avalanche, storm, drought threatening devoted town
The potty flows onto the street in Muslim town
Cause for pause, dust, mud, rat, shit and shout
From the Mullah window; you have cause to bless
The gentle stars, if you come off with piss

Did you know of Aliabad, Shindand, Shinwari and Azizabad
See, clearly poor and rich are not alike
Post a Comment