To hell with Tagore . . .

Where the mind is messed with fear & head hangs low
Where knowledge is a farce
Where the world & hearts are broken up
into pieces by craters in ground & minds
Where words craft many layers of lies;
Where tireless treachery stretches its arms towards deception;
Where the conning stream of treason
has not lost its way into the dreary desert sand of dead patriotism
Where the minds are led astray by them into ever-widening distrust & hatred
Into that slavery of corruption, my Father has let my country sleep.

Tagore weeps.