Stormy outside - to storms we're prone,
while a hyena sat on destiny's throne.
The Lions and Tigers sadly forgotten,
while a luscious bloom got slowly rotten.
Golden verses to the ground burned,
sadly thus, how fate of history turned.
Truth like diamonds buried in dark,
uncover the mud, relive the spark.
Destiny will again bear it's fruits,
for a nation usurped from its roots.
Let us now take the holy pledge,
for a nation sitting on razor's edge.
Prasenjit©1997-2022
No comments:
Post a Comment