Inferno … Apsra Gul

Inferno

Apsra Gul

You bastard innocent soul

What are you doing here?

Don’t you see the towering pillars?

Of poesy

Of literature

Sitting around the table

To hold the sky

On their widening shoulders made of

Sandy stuff

Their heads

Their faces

Even their eyes are stuffed

One day their steel reinforcement will be snatched

Up to then

They are the masters of reasoning

And Of hell

Yes

Its inferno

What are you doing here?