The CHILDREN of a Sinking Colony died NAKED in the Diary of a RAPIST
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Gently the South wind sighs ;
In a whispered tone often heard
Adieo ! Farewell ! Earth's Bliss!
Clothed they lie in the Cold Tomb.
O Time ! O Life ! O Heart !
Scars of thorns on these Roses???
   A diary from Pain' s landscape
   Under a moonless blind Sky reveals:
"I am a dehydrated man with dreadful  
                                                       Thirst
Seeing expanded pupils of children's eyes
My blood peaks at 108° Fahrenheit.
Brute brute heart of this brute,
Draws two lines of blood;
Never to meet a child again.
Little bloody skirts and frocks ,
Blossoms poisonous colours in me.
   Here the country is on its way to Nuclear 
                                                               Age,
   The government is worried about bigger
                                                                things,
   Genetic engineers are experimenting in
                                              closed rooms,
   And people debate on tradition.
Like an eagle flies ' Tangent'
To a land' s curve, for its prey
I walk on the ' Parabola' of a plane;
And  it is that much easy to get a child
Waiting only Three long minutes;
From careless towns and villages
From cloudy Violet of a Colony.
   In sweat of the working class
   Alike scent of the elite class
   My finger dips deep,
   In the open depths of  faminity.
   Though no breasts to press
    I tear up lips redder than red.
    In surjing joy of no bounds
    I bite the soft skin,
    And draw two lines of blood.
    As a fixed pattern I have
    I possess the bloody skirts or frocks.
    Without a cry of life, rigid by death
    Lies Naked each Child;
    With a whispering Hole....
I have no face,
Poisonous colours is in my chromosomes
My life is moonless in a Trigonometrical 
                                                              point."
O TIME ! O LIFE ! O HEART  !
Like a cliche' d photograph
Clothed they lie in a Cold Tomb.....