red rag

she wanted to cry
after she'd been
to hell and back
did she ask herself
if such is the stench
of suffering
why they live
why do they die
or did a flower
of the sun
find herself
engulfed at sunset
by the darkest night



in autumn like the leaves fall
in winter like the snow
from green and blue the tear
drops and in the river of kings
the red flows
in the vale of kashmir