Mother Kali, are these your sons?
These roaming packs of urbanites,
ranging the streets like hounds?
Do their minds cloud with your desires?
Do their loutish yelps echo
of your ancient rites
Have modern times robbed you
of your terrible majesty?
Are the shouts of
brutish youth
a sound pleasant to your ear?
Mother Kali, if not your
sons?
May they be your sacrifice?
