Look at the wall,
The clock is ticking,
It is ticking,
Steadily, constantly, and periodically,
And is never tired,
Of showing the time,
Which is changing, or maybe not.
A particular meat,
Makes one an antinationalist.
Supporting a nation’s call,
Even if it’s harmless,
And even if it doesn’t make one, an antinationalist,
Makes one an apologist.
Despite being a despicable crime,
Honour killings are famed, even today.
We still ask for names,
To discern which deity they glorify,
And if still baffled,
It is the last name,
We ask for.
We go on proliferating the abstract wall.
The clock is ticking indeed,
But time is stuck,
Somewhere in the Neolithic age.