In the abyss of centuries, imprints of blood lie submerged,
History is scarred in the veins of shackled dreams,
Burning disgrace under the rule of darkness—
The alphabet weeps, silenced echoes drift away,
Awakening on the pages of manuscripts—Freedom.

Chains are torn apart, awakening the fiery baptism of resolve,
Piercing through the veins of night, a revolutionary dawn blooms,
On the gray frontiers—where blood dries,
In the murmur of memories, a wild flame ignites,
Resonating—Freedom.

Through the ruins of destruction, the tower of victory rises,
On the scorched land, the mantra of rebirth is sown,
The lamp of truth burns, bathed in blood-stained white,
After the blaze, its heat spreads among the stars,
From the heap of corpses is born—Freedom.

The tattered curtain of oppression burns in the flames,
The toxic citadel of tyranny crumbles into dust,
Piercing the chest of emptiness, the radiance of rebellion blooms,
In the veins of the earth flows an indestructible storm of resolve,
The pure, luminous mark is—Freedom.

The warmth of the soul is not merely the glow of the sun,
It is an immortal legacy forged in the glory of sacrifice,
On the meteors of time is written the defeat of servitude,
Roots of resistance embed deep, nurturing new dreams,
The light of freedom—eternal, unyielding!
© 4 mins ago, Azahar Raza