Somewhere along the way, We fell into a pattern, Your casual cruelty Almost a habit Trapped in a burnt out Chinar, My very being singed by the Corners of paradise, All I could feel was your Cold hands around my neck There were no more shrines, Where I could tie my rags, Those little pieces of Mortgaged souls, Pawned to a unhearing God At times, your boots walked on my face, I shuffled and you shot me dead, Amputating my limbs of all shame Refusing me even the little dignity of death In the abandoned corner of earth, That I once called home Maggots ate at my flesh, Cockroaches infested my body, But even then, You sought my soul to Barter at shops of decay You built orphanages in military camps, Housing my children in houses Riddled with bullet holes, their childhood Held hostage by my bombed out desires And your indifferent smiles In between glasses of subsidised Imported rum, smartly balanced on Your razor thin grin, you poured Acid in my eyes, bli