To the Ruins

Take me to your ruins-
Where your heart’s heaviness flows,
In the form of syringes, plastic, clothes, broken bricks, and mud.
But statues stand tall-
At the expense of someone’s back, and someone’s spine.
While flying bridges collapse
At the slightest hint of clouds,
Posters untired, shout about people united, bounded by glue-
Glue that’s as diluted with coins, papers, thin air,
with tears and ghostly fate,
As the streams diluted with cyanide, mercury, and sins.
Unison shatters on the cemented, shoddy, shining ground,
Like a delicate mirror or dawn’s dream.
Mirage of binding breaks,
As some sip ginger, Assam, and neat milk, watching rain,
Some are floating numb, after losing their plastic and tin and adulterated cement roofs,
And the land beneath their feet, which were smaller than a rice grain.

Take me to ruins
To dance in that rain
Take a sip of that sulphur
That arose from the somebody’s campfire that burned
Every last of trees, soil, men, their softness, and a god called hope.