Photo credit: naql. CC-BY.

You bring me night like no one would.
Explain that our suicides
Are not simply cowardice.
You grow like rain
Onto acid
And then, turn into thin air, waves.

You reject the Gospel, using
Its melody, its melting heart.
Place its truth to question
This world’s edifice.

You are as Christian a Hindu should be
As indigenous a Muslim should be
As atheist, a Buddhist defined.
All faith turn to pure water
In your world of sonic rhyme.

Harmonies and guitar
Tears and time
Synth and drums
Anger and crime.

While I live a nobody
A non-living thing
Without any ability
to suck
This sound, your sound, the sound.

We will never know
For we must not
And that is the beauty
That inspires you to inspire life
In me, in us
In these times of hatred
And hostilities
And white supremacy
And North Indian Hindu Supremacy
And the worldwide rise of Right
And the Hindu-Nazi-Israeli consolidation
And our fake artistic attempts at asserting our identities
Peers dying for some free appropriation
Shagging like a dog, like a dog for some appreciation
Fake declarations and hollow poets’ societies’ recognition.
To save their balls
To save their balls
As no life remains
No love remains
No words remain to be swallowed?

Only ugliness. And obnoxious
Self-boasting ads, their full-page faces, to please
This existence! To declare the end of art.

Thanks for teaching me how
To smell some reality
In these final hours.