Its been a long time since i wrote... wonder so many things all of a sudden take precedence over what i actually want to do.. anyway... so getting back to form and shape.. just plugging in one of my old poetries ... thought it most relevant as the day is getting closer
Slogans were heard everywhere,
Gunshots were fired in the air.
We called them patriots.
But aliens called them slaves.
Dressed in white,
They fought for freedom
They were men with mettle
And real wisdom
They spoke one language,
Visioned one goal,
Followed one mission,
Honest to their soul.
Shedding away their tears,
They fought for years.
Many died….With bullets and swords pierced.
One day at midnight…
14th August 1947
Came the night of freedom,
To see India like heaven
Today we have the independence,
But there has been a slow death…
Death!!! of a patriot within us
Goals different and souls apart,
Confused how to end and what to start
Fighting for luxury beyond par….
Is this what our martyrs died for?
Feel the spirit of Freedom, in its true sense !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
1 comment:
very apt krupa and very true.
Wonderfully written
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