Apostate

The heretic alone stands, innocent,
Condemned yet with no blood on her hands-
Who is guilty and who is just?
God will not ask who did not cut their hair?

What is so hurtful and cruel about your words
that seek to damn and scald and wound
are not your words themselves but the fact
that they are coming from you.

You who this apostate loved, loved so deeply
too much sometimes that she couldn't open her mouth
for fear that tears would fall out.
The world outside rages in war and conflict and pain but

the apostate's beloved ones are too busy sentencing
This apostate for her sins.
You are not a proper not a whole not a true Sikh
how Can You be if you do not, it's because you do Not!

Goodnight, the apostate says,
I am going to seek something deeper
I love you still, dear ones,
I cannot forsake you

And I am apostate
Like you have forsaken me.