Fear has been smeared on the walls of my city
Like pyre ash carried by the wandering, stripped sadhu.
Invisible eyes planted in these walls
Those measure your each step and count your breaths
Sniff your odor in peeping ears to extend hands and strangle you.

Fear is the water that flows by my tap
From the auctioned glaciers, melting in offerings of human waste
Fear is the large slogan on oblique faces of barren hills
Those get stamped with their own reassuring doubt
And the watchtower that holds this defacing
Fearing a torrent may wash it away

Fear is the toddler who walks past concertina
And dares the soldier in a tireless glaze
Fear is not the kid who raises his bare hands
And clenches his fists in defiance of a march
Fear is the hand that waivers on trigger
Hiding in fatigues of a defeated corps

Fear is a meadow barricaded by columns
Holding the erased names of our stolen nights
Daring is the epitaph of these nameless fallen
Fear is the invaders exertion to conceal his crimes

Fortitude is the half-widow’s epochal cry for justice
Fear is the despot who dare not look them in the eye

Fear is the king who marvels his robes
That were never woven and those he never wore
Fear is a carnage he peddles for a price
In bargains of macabre denials and turns
Fear is the old man he cages for a dread
That truth pierces stronger that his bullets ever could.

~S~

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