Another God

 

On the body of my country

Tanks of water are red wounds

Rivers are flowing blood

Yielding to the voices of the flesh

Here the sky sold away its sun for a fistful of stars

Paper promises have piled up into Himalayan hills

The wasted ink makes a sea –

And dreams of the nation

Are going into caves of paper to renounce the world

Some have jumped into the ink and relinquished life

Now the iron in the country goes to make prison bars

Leaving none to make railways

Farmer bears the plough

Like Jesus bore the cross

In the temple of this nation

The deity has been digested

Now hungry for another god 

-Seshendra Sharma

 

 

 

This poem is about: 
My community
My country
Our world

Comments

Annette M Velasquez

Surely you are a professional poet- a teacher of literature perhaps... if you have another career I am suprized because you should be writing books and gracing the world with your stunningly beautiful poetry.

Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741