Where Is Your God
Her clothes were tattered just as her face,
his legs didn't support him as he came down on his waist,
hygiene an alien word,
agony in each breath they take,
they waited together
and separately prayed
we are the women of the streets,
the men of streets and train
we don't know your happiness
and you don't know our pain.
Her eyes, two hazy bowls of water,
drops from which travelled,
mysterious eyes unravelled,
through her cheeks to touch the first bit of clothing
the first drops of dirty rain went through her soul,
first drops of dirty shower penetrated his battered body,
in they found a vacuum,
denser than an empty room.
Their prayers, pure imaginations,
inventions of a brilliant mind,
their hearts, temples of peace and calm,
salvation sucked out of hurt and harm,
their Gods, deaf and dumb,
preaches blind faith and eyes numb,
their faces, heavy rocks off the mountain of suffering,
off the hill of lost hope,
stale food and stale streets,
vacuum pumping heart beats,
who look not for theirs,
their pain he shares,
but ask the blind fools... where is your God?
Copyright © Rinki Nandy | Year Posted 2011
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