Divided bloodlines

And a pile-up of bones

on either side,

Fracturing the Indo-gangetic

Was hardly easy.

*

The train’s got to leave

The marauders must slake their thirst

In wells of blood and screams echoing

through unborn lives.

The history cares are swiped at every station

Along the way

Piling debits of the lives of every

wife and daughter lost

*

Sagt mir wo die blumen sind?

(Where have all the flowers gone?)