Screaming Banshee

By Gaurav Parab

A hundred questions running through my head,
A thousand bombs every day, a million dead.
Would it be wrong to call his work slipshod?
I would like to know, where is my god?

I last felt him that day on the beach,
As I looked up at the sky I heard him preach.
I heard the truth about everyone around me,
I also heard the scream of a banshee.

The bleeding man under that the truck did not pray?
The Darfur girl starved because she was not in Norway?
Why does he hide behind that extravagant façade?
Can anyone see him, can anyone see my god?

All that goes wrong is someone else’s shit,
All that goes right is his lovely gift,
I searched Benares, Tel Aviv and Riyadh.
Where do you live, where are you my god?

Was he here when she was saved ten years ago?
But that young man died, why did he let him go?
He is within each one of us, they yell and claim.
Don’t see him in me- all I see is evil and shame.

Did he leave this place a long time ago?
Was he ever here, I don’t think I know.
Did I just make him up because I could not explain?
Who creates my joy, who give me pain?

If you are on a vacation, about time you came back,
My world is burning, everyone’s faith is under attack.
Is this one of your long morality games?
Not funny anymore, time you doused the flames.

Show me a sign if you care and can,
Like they say you did when time began.
As I struggle between death and a reason to remain,
God, I pray you keep your part of our bargain.

I think you should come back; we’ll never be the same.
Or admit you are gone, so I can stop killing in your name.