PAIN IN WORDS
Why there will be not pain in these words?
When the ink of pen itself is blood
Imagine the state of heart from where they emerge
Also of eyes that witnesse tyranny
Emotions, do they have any value in my land?
Or just a commodity to be bought and sold
My eyes now try to find most darkest part of night
To abstain them from seeing the red
Beauty itself can’t make my land paradise
Nor any claims can make everything all right
What an irony is out there in the world?
They say “Save the water”, but I say, who will save the blood?
Has this world been always like this?
One part of it enjoy life at the cost of death of other
If it is so, then I have no regrets nor any pain
Because to settle this injustice, I firmly believe day of judgment would surely come