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Tiger, tiger.

Atom, atom burning bright,
What did you do to deserve this blight,
of bandied words and twisted streets
a society of smithereens?

Jati, jati one and all,
What did you do to deserve this fall,
From baskets high to sewer drains,
as so many rotted, discarded grains?

Tiger, tiger twisted tight,
What have you to explain this night,
Of glassy eyes and shortened breath,
and legion souls that smell of death?

Sempai, sempai sitting square,
What then have you left to dare,
With twisted limbs and twisting words
And an audience of jaundiced herds.

Lover, lover where are you,
That one must search so through and through
when half is lost and half is dared,
and from the currents we pray be spared
yet altogether will be for nought,
as our grains grow only what's been wrought.

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