I never know the water I used
to wash my face and
to quench my thirst—were the remains
of the flooded eyes of my fathers.

I never know the rumbling sounds
I used to hear during storms
were the agonised voices
of widows and orphaned children.

I never know, the stars I see in the sky
are the escaped bullets—that hid
under the roof of my bones
and rubbed my soul with grief.

until I see the rainbow—bowed
before me—the agonies I wear
at the top of my body
will split-up into fragments.

until i lost the rivers
that dwell in my mouth
every drop of rain of memories
will be hung at every corner
in the city of my thoughts.