FLOWERS IN FIRE
Drink from him, he's drunk
Take a glass, touch a glass.
All you have is wrath
All he has are words.
He's drink, drink from him
He's drink still thirsty
You are null and drunk.
He's the poor lamb
You are fed by his blood.
He's drink, drink from him
His drink of patience makes him worth
Your hunger makes him hungry.
You talk and have ears
But he's allowed to have none.
He's drink, drink from him
You have lot of secrets
So your friends have few too.
You keep it, you coward
He keeps it, he's afraid.
He's drink, drink from him
Once he spoke, he was rich
Now he's silent and lost.
You are busy in lust
He's been tired to eat.
He's drink, drink of him
You call yourself a friend
Don't fool him, he's tired.
Don't torture him, he's dying
Don't force him or do.
He'll die and ask! he'll ask!
~ Abid Hussain


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