With hast I root my tongue out, close my lips
And darn the every gap of dripping truth;
I scratch my mind to wipe the sense of cruel
Against next brother's cry on son's tomb;
I crash my eyes to spot not rip of kind
Beneath the feet of might in bright of day;
I plug my ears to hear not cries of souls
From darkest cells of millions caged breaths;
I kill my sense to feel not bird's wail
On blazing nest and scorching dears to death;
I smash my news to read not streets of blood
Who bang the every door to share the hurt;
I break my pen to write not numbing heart
On sheets of time to end my tale with Me;
I end my stride to walk not door of house
That once was home of Shive and Parvati souls;
I feel now tomb inside my inner self
Where do I burry always kashmir hell;
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Write comment. Such a nice poem, Shmwkat A. W. Read my poem, Love and Iust. Thanks