There are roads Kashmir
which lead to nowhere
but you know how they sit
on your body and stifle you
I can hear the gun shots from here
You are impervious to weeping
And when the flower blooms
you see disaster in red
Are your children and women weeping?
Are your mountains rigid?
As snow falls
Take the fault lines
Be quiet
The soporific valley is taciturn
And the river flows in smudges of red
I sitting here can only listen to the news
But you will keep on calling
Causing a schism in my heart.
