What happens when
you stop thinking?
Reaching near the god
or becoming a stone?
It was not enough even,
when you go in coma.
A shrine of dazzling failures.
The animosity, the politics
of violence.I cannot remain
untouched.Wounds would
never heal.
All fever.I am not alive.
of the marvels of religion.
I ask you to go away.This
Friday another Christ will die.
Becoming whole.Was it
possible today amidst the
unbecoming of human beings?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem