Kashmir

I was proud of our art, our poetry, our sculptures and our love.
I said, the beauty of our creation will bring even the old stone gods to tears.
Then they came to me in a dream and took me to a place,
Where the cruel red flowers that belonged in their heaven
Laughed at the blood of people running through pure white soil,
And watched the murder of children with proud indifference.
And when I woke up I was crying.
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I wrote this right after I saw a film on Kashmir. I didn't post it earlier coz my friend wanted me to work more on it, but I can't coz the moment has passed.