Dark M...

The winds chilly,
as their hearts,
clouds shrouding
evil's winning laughs.

"Bring out match-sticks
let's light them-
aghast, unprepared
we, the masters,
they, our slaves."

Frightened eyes
trying to hide
wishing to match
the dark of their lives.

"Bring out machetes
to cut them apart
fine pieces for dogs
one of their blood."

Innocents scarred
childhood killed
But, who records them
Unless it's a War?

"Bring out those rats
our labour cowards,
beat till they flee,
for this is our land."

Culture Kills.
Nation spills.
Left unheard, uncared
them-
the Migrants!


-Rashmirekha Pandit