Let the low whispers come together,
and pierce clouds for sunny weather.
Let voices mingle, rebellions rise,
and the puny gods taken by surprise.
Let it spread - furore and fiery rage,
hand-in-hand let's all of us engage.
New history in those blank pages,
written in blood as long as war wages.
Let me in my eternal agony burn,
so that others may stand and turn.
Let me cherish how much I hate,
so that I may change others fate.
Let me in my oozing blood rot,
moments of pain not to be forgot.
Pull them out of their cozy shade,
which once our nimble fingers made.
Prasenjit©2022
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