Nikhil Parekh - Indian Poet
They made me sit on ugly bare current chair,
clasped my hands with rusty iron wire,
strangled my neck with metal plaster,
dragged my feet in boiling effluent,
tore my scalp with steel toothed combs,
pierced my nail in halves with knife,
coated my face with acidic tar,
broke my nose with gruesome fist blows,
stitched my lips with needle and thread,
engraved designs on flesh with rusty pins,
severed bunch of veins with carpenter saw,
divested me of water for long hours,
enclosed my face in jute bags,
containing an army of African wild rat,
whipped me with leather skin dipped in salt curry,
unclothed me in the chilly night,
sprayed obnoxious petrol with large hosepipes,
punctured my features to look like a ghost,
left me hanging in dangling chains,
in dilapidated comforts of crumbling roof,
i then lost faith in the reigning creator,
who put blood in my flesh, pumped oxygen in my chest,
which now converted into complete shambles,
agony groans echoing through walls of confinement,
my eyes finally closed in submission,
ending the ordeal, sealing bleeding pores of my body.
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Torture
Torture
