Dalit poem

Oh plunge it deeper, you tyrants, depraved of the world
The dagger you bought from the Wall Street pawnshop
Have no mercy, leave no turn unturned, deeper should you
Pierce the wound
You nubile slaves, shark jaws is the only virtue you posses
Must I then warn you, the deeper the wound you inflict
My verses become incisive, profound

Each chaff of wheat is soaked with the sweat of bonded Dalit
The grains have a mark of smile, etched by dying sigh
Precious as a smile, noble as cotton wool
On the lips of baby, mothers milk might have dried

The priests have sugar  for your heartbeats
To light the torched books of their myths
The wheels of Krishna's chariot
Become stuck in your agony's mud

Ashes are flickering in the dark
Of your burnt huts with no shade
The lips of rains have charred it to cinders
Your hopes are afloat on the tattered tri colors in throes of death