I sing of broken Christmas bells
Letters addressed to the condemned cells
Trees by fields of unblessed mass graves
And a toy tiger soaking in the rain

Songs of postcards lost in the mail
Silent lips behind the veil
An ancient lizard on the wall
Children sleeping on the midnight train

My tunes touch tips of rusted pins
Crumpled sheets in garbage bins
Schoolboy sins by diode light
Peepul sapling by the drain

Rhythm rises out of stuttering guns
Footfalls of prodigal sons
Scribbles covering up the crafty truths
Lying till the meaning is made plain


2 thoughts on “Frag

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