Difficult to say it is a crisis of faith Deadlock stubbornly cracked Divide intensified with fact so backed ****** is truth, lost memory's wraith "Who's to blame?" as so often "they" saith
Forget this daft idyllic hope, loyalty To nothing has my life compared And as most humans, no heartache spared No limits to its reverence and constancy As God shapeshifted, any form but royalty
Kings of Kings, my Makers, Lords on High Omnipotent theories to query Over verses I've traveled, all but Kashmiri Reasonably these to view before bye-bye Off I am to Pir Panjal, where I shall quake and die
This was written during the time just after the earthquake in Nepal. I was also considering my nephew's fate in Afghanistan and that whole region's conflicts.