O’er relics, of, lasting oblivion
Cold, Soviet-American, insolence
To damn, Taliban’s myth, of religion
Satire found, in ’sin’, its new substance!

“Lest you make, life forms, face Allah’s wrath”
Sermons Taliban, halal, haram, of Islam
What art, would be, without life’s psalm
A soulless requiem, at the, fiesta of faith!

Still, Picassos dare, the Satan’s sons
From the canvas, of, war-worn-out walls
With panache, art bares, fear’s dimensions
Faith seems, to redeem, from its, own protocols!

That spark, is now, an inferno
Not just, on walls, but all heartbeats
An ethos thrives, in its, soul’s echo
What Graffitis, Shout From, Afghan Streets!

© 2020 Vikas Chandra