The red in my veins
Iss mitti ke banne hai hum, issi mitti ki hui humari raakh, Keemat hai hum logo ki? Marte jo hai Roz hazaro laakh, Nahi dekhna aiina, nahi dekhna kadd, kya karungi mein unn cheezo ka? Khoon bahao hazaro boond, ashru an-ginat, phir bhi sote hai woh chain ki neend Roz raat. I'm tired, lord, I'm so tired. My hands red from pulling every rope I could to stop them, my feet sore from running towards every refuge. Bury me in the land that I birthed in, in the arms of the mother that fed me, on the lap of the father that taught me how to walk. Why must you break my home for the sins of man? Mother has been hurt for years, centuries even, and you stood and watched, oh father, why must we follow your accord now? It will leave us with nothing to cherish, more so, no tears to cry. Why must you starve your children for the mistakes of man? This land they see, this land they think they rule, is alive, I can feel her, I can feel mother breathe. Every stone, every leaf, every gust ...
