Cups of Prayers and Curses

I drink everyday cups after cups Of what you feared to drink. If blood differs its color from red To saffron, white or whatever, I deny to bleed religiously. From what well a beggar Draws water for his thirst I know not, But I understand the poison Of sins we, you and I, drink everyday; Spiced with your indifferent high-handedness. Do not hoist your flag on my history, For I have stopped walking on tutored prayers. In spite of the anthem you've baptized me with and My flat nose and narrow eyes upon which Your mockery humiliates humanity, I remain native to my roots. Someday, a stone will conquer us, the both of us, When stars will drain their twinkles, with remorse, On garbage of raped girls, even as chastity becomes The fault-line along which seismic rebellions Will tremor and justify my absence From your churches, mosques and temples. My demands, notwithstanding your statutes, Are answerable by your august houses; Lest posterity wil spill cups of curses On altars, constitutions and patriotism.