by Vivek Sharma
Did you see the sobbing reporter describe how the Taj of Mumbai burns?
How many will Asuras cause to die before O Vishnu as avataar returns?
The fanatic bullet hunts gazelles everywhere that nostalgia mourns.
Where is the machine crafted that chokes our unfinished yearns?
Differences are astonished at the atrocities flowing in their name.
Can anyone explain it to these cubs, where this feud begins?
Words loaded into Kashalnikovs explode in believer's brains.
What savage desires issue death sentences to their sons?
You fight your kith and kin, seeking separate land-holdings.
See our heritage now desecrated by our own selfish actions.
Tearful ocean is filled with the ash of my extinguished loves.
My hurt is the chorus of subdued sighs of colossal nations.
There is absolutely no God who honors assassins.
He is all powerful. He needs no help from tainted persons.
Courage is in protecting, in fighting limitations, in peace.
Who is using this chicanery to teach the faithful satanic lessons?
Light up a diya, whisper me the ancient hymns of Shanti!
Forge within Vivek again that grit for overcoming tribulations.
Vivek Sharma grew up in Himachal Pradesh, a state in the Himalayas, India. Vivek (Ph. D., Georgia Tech.) is conducting post-doctoral research at Massachusetts Institute of Technology. His work has appeared in or is forthcoming in Poetry, Atlanta Review, The Cortland Review and Terminus and was recently nominated for the Pushcart Prize by New Verse News. He is a columnist for Divya Himachal, a Hindi newspaper in India and his research has appeared in science journals.
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