Digging the grave I bring out
fossils of my past life

and see my spine bent
by two hundred years of slavery

in my chest the smell of damp soil
in my fist the remnant
of a broken plough

digging the grave I bring out
my past filled with darkness

I realize that everyone has
a history of travelling
with heads bowed down
the procession of empty stomachs
passes by

everyone has a story
of floating by
digging the grave
I find a river red with blood and
see my bullet pierced dead body
floating

digging the grave I find
-like fire perhapsa heated excitement red and crisp
digging the grave I carry
my own dead body to the graveyard
whether they call me a martyr or not
before this land is forced to be sold
before the air disappears
before these rivers turn poisonous
once, at least once, I want to
destroy myself
fighting a fearless war.

kazi neel

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