Walking alone…



Robed in white
posing pure
hearts malign
using Allah
to acquire
their God —
palaces, scents
velvet carpets
goblets of gold
gifts from fools
conferring them
as their heads
since ages long
and then by those
who pay them by
the sweat of their brows.
They turn brothers
against brothers
friends into foe
for their realm
shouldn’t go
the power hungry
write their own Quran
and preach with a fee
adorning it as spirituality
they who walk down the aisle
with men hired to
sing ode of their praises
how they enjoy the spree!
The curse casted
decades ago
shall continue
for decades more
the prudents care not
and the nincompoops
continue to grow
for they are blind to know
those disguised as swan
are in real crows.

© Nazneen Kachwala


Amidst the fragrant branches
of a lemon tree
artistically entwined
like the artwork
of a passionate poet
trying to bring the world together,
lived two cuckoos
a perfect home
built placing twig after twig
between the earth and the sky
as they sang in harmony
songs divine —
Alas! the turmoil hit one more time
and they watched their little world
crumble before their eyes
the two birds are now refugees
in this ghastly set-up
seeking an asylum or demise.

© Nazneen Kachwala