Bleedings Of A Tame Beast

I am tame now –
Tame and sane.
I will not paint any more
In the nauseous shades of red.
No more shall I paint the blood
That I bleed every day;
Every moment a lathi charge is unleashed,
An encounter is ensued,
A curse is hurled.
No more shall I paint the blood
Trickling from the vagina of the girl
Stuffed with pebbles.
They say she was a naxal.
No more shall I paint the rubble that lay
In Syria, speckled with the blood of a son,
Caressed by the roughened fingers of a widowed
husband,
No more shall I paint the entrails of
Lahore, split apart by a bomb-blast.
No more.
I am tame now.
Tame and sane.
I shall but spit,
And spit blood
And speckle the walls in red.