poetry, Repost of another's beautiful work

The Buddha

The Surreal Attic

Half cut and hammered,

A Buddha under the falls is fallen.
The falls’ waters cleanse the bloodied stone,
Etching vermillion on the bloody floor.
Still the Buddha smiles.

There are tall trees around.
Also dark ushering clouds burgeon.
The lament of a Dravidian girl resonates,
In the breathtaking valley of blood.
Still the Buddha smiles.

The girl, her hair undone, and body too
Sits and weeps in Buddha’s eyes.
Her blood and tears coalesce, yet,
Nobody’s there to hear her requiem.
Still the Buddha smiles.

A queer quietude prevails.
Hunger and thirst too, yet water is there.
Nobody hears the cry of the bloody valley.
Life is still yet there is no stillness.
Still the Buddha smiles.

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