In the land that bleeds,
Sighs, weeps and screams-
Yet silent, sans vision
Crowned with unspoken dreams,
There lived a hope,
A wish to see the day-
A day not stained with blood,
The one five oceans away.
Paradise on Earth, as they call,
Breathes through nostrils burnt.
Its skin specked with landmines
And not a single soul concerned.
Two Watans, one tug of war-
To drag it in their maps.
Soldiers killed, the innocent blown,
Parched Earth, thirsty taps.
This never-ending show of greed,
Will shatter everything, they say.
So, to Kashmir, tranquility
Is but five oceans away.
Mar 19, 2014
Mar 19, 2014 at 2:52 AM UTC
In the land that bleeds,
Sighs, weeps and screams-
Yet silent, sans vision
Crowned with unspoken dreams,
There lived a hope,
A wish to see the day-
A day not stained with blood,
The one five oceans away.
Paradise on Earth, as they call,
Breathes through nostrils burnt.
Its skin specked with landmines
And not a single soul concerned.
Two Watans, one tug of war-
To drag it in their maps.
Soldiers killed, the innocent blown,
Parched Earth, thirsty taps.
This never-ending show of greed,
Will shatter everything, they say.
So, to Kashmir, tranquility
Is but five oceans away.
An ode to Kashmir, the land of grenades.
