Her Rage

By Karun Balarajan

Her crimson eyes do not shine.

Her ears do not hear them whine. 

Her four hands tear apart the limbs and their heads.

And she leaves them as the blood spreads.

Her tears drown the town, 

A skull becomes her crown. 

The red river adorns her breasts

The bodies are where her leg rests. 

Roaring like a tiger, gazing at the sky.

Everything stops, even a fly. 

Sharp fangs and blood-red tongue,

Echo the laments they had sung. 

The earth shakes from her dance,

As she screams and cries in her trance. 

She demands blood and raw meat,

As her anklets clang above her feet.

When shall the violence end?

When shall she stop and relent? 

By Karun Balarajan