Ashes of Inhumanity - by Shaheen Sultan Dhanji
Ashes of Inhumanity
Where does the colour of life traverse through after me?
Will my bones be frozen in time
Will the corpse be left in the rainfall to be washed of its dust?
History makes fun of its victims
And its heroes
Takes a look at them and passes by
This sea is mine -
The September air, also mine.
And my name -
Even if they spelt it wrong on the coffin -
As for me,
Wherever I search for myself I find the others.
And when I search for them
I only find my alien-self
So am I the individual -crowd, a corpse undone?
Ah, but, you --
Spitting forth fires on the horizon,
Swinging in the void like a skeleton
In a plundered state -
Like an old amulet, in a dusty suitcase -
Dragging the strings of the horizon from your memory,
Weaving a enormous tapestry of children's broken bodies -
Tearing flesh, stopping a breath
Blasting their infant skulls, stepping on bloated small purple hands -
Is this why you tremble, dreading the mirror?
A name you hear makes you shiver -
'Tis, of your own -
And, nothing smells worse
Than the ashes of inhumanity.