A letter that Saki never ever wrote...

Got into a letter
Like a perfect traitor
Telling how life betrayed
Him, burma teak,
Still on pages how gracefully He sticks,
Crying against bullets
For Peace...

All the citizens of the world,
Stop firing guns,
All the decree holders of the Globe
Stop hunting Syria,

You merchants of acidic foeticide,
In the name of merchandise
Stop your outreach progroms
For occupation is rising
Right there over your heads,
For your profiteering genocide
Is taking no one no where...

You modern white colored dhotis
Wipe your glasses clean, and tone down bills
On your prolific janseva and imported e-class sedans,
Your smooth neo gandhian mercedes,
For occupation is rising on the streets,

You snipers
Put that damn cigarette out!'

Got into this
The last cry of Saki...
On papers
Colored and burnt
Sepia old
But fonts still there holding gold,
His unconventional bold.

(Note: this one is upon discovering Saki's last words,
The picture attached is a work done by me,a bit of camera work and photo edit,)


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