Misery filled our lungs long before you,
But then you came guns blazing and tear gas popping
Shooting us, shouting,
we come in peace, we come in love
Fuck you and fuck your guns,
I will be ready to die before you can even count to ten
But how will you know, who I am,
When I wash up already dead
At the door of my own house,
Million fragmented dreams
Seeping out of my skin,
the last wisps my mortal soul
escaping with the only dream
I ever dreamt.
You will build tombs of your victory
Over the ruins of my house,
In Gaza, in Damascus and in Srinagar
I will be long dead,
but even in my grave I shall claw
at the foundations
of your houses, that you built over
my playgrounds
I will whisper the guilt into your ears
Long after last band has gone home,
Scratch my history into your very skin
Right where your sins grafted into mine
And my half dead will loom in your family portraits
haunting you till the very end
You will find my book of love songs,
In my old rooms, but you will never sing
of love again.
Bio: Tasim Zahid was born and raised in Kashmir. Besides moonlighting as a poet, he also works as a web editor with a news agency.