pointing fingers

satta-watta, karo-kari
malignant cancers they carry
it's easy to blame others
feudals, beards we finger
we come up with pathetic gem
"it is never us always them."

born of women we trash them
at every chance we condemn
we ignore the inner cancer
religion nor psyche answer
we have no character, no will
behind veil of honour we mill
in search of a glory past
wondering why it did not last
we regress behind that era
to the jehalat's chimera
my brothers in islam soon
in this urge to spit at moon
we'll be burying our daughter
and women we will slaughter

forget others, lay this blame
on you and me without acclaim