Like objects used, sans their choices.
Raised slogans, wanting to be free -
Were beaten to death tied to a tree.
Tears, blood fell - screams echoed in sky -
Humanity was buried but it didn't die!
The ones with whip sweated and panted -
The ones whipped fervently cried and ranted.
Hands of oppressors worked from afar -
Reddened became streets of black tar.
On green fields corpses were piled -
While few leaders somewhere wryly smiled.
They named it, 'The hand of God' -
Yet it was mortals that gave the nod.
They ravaged from millions to crore -
Yet fury flared through public uproar.
History is a witness: Turmoils reach its peak -
Avalanches sweep down in situations bleak.
Prasenjit©2022
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