The Rape Poem by Sadiqullah Khan

On the old routes of caravan
One fine morning
I traveled westward
A dusty wind
A harsh sunlight
The caravans on the move
Some tradesmen
Some escaping the weather
And some forced
For there was war
A huge crowd
On the road
The sun was dim
The dust heavier
The wind was closer to the earth
Some pelting stones
A voice was heard
Some said
A girl is raped
By a border man
In the bunker
The sun got harsher
The earth got darker
Jesus where are you
On the caravans route
So many rapes
The bordermans toll
A family vanquished
The hapless people
And that one was known
So many women
And the sun was harsher
The earth did not move
The caravans moved on
The tradesmen counting their money
A prayer call
From the mosque nearby