14/03/2012 by Siddiqui Fayesal
I beseech, nay, order thee to stay put,
Wedged in my heart of sorrow.
You, who hath bled it,
Shall now stench the ruddy flow.
I pledge the end of my days,
Henceforth, to thy death.
You, who hath warred upon my infirmities
In turn shall lie broken in strength!
I promise thee that thy end shall
Be no mere chance of a throw.
You, who laughed at my loss
Shall now feel the hurt of thy blow!
I shall look to your demise like dainty
Birds of prey in the sky up high.
You, who lived your sins twice over shall end backwards
For your death and beg and weep and cry.
I will guard thee against that angel of death
When he comes with his sceptre at the ready.
You, who hath played God, will be mine to prey upon
Much before he can take thee!
I shall spit upon thine headstone
And throw water upon thine breast.
You who hath made merry shall now
Know the beauty of burnt out nests.
I shall give you death
Ordained for vermins not seen.
You who hath washed your hands and then
Bismirched the same sea unclean.
Note: Everything apart from the 1st para was written on the 5th of the same month in Petit! The first para in the Shivneri Depot @ Dadar on my return trip from Pune.