Freedom flows like liquid in my veins,
Pain makes my nerve look green,
Commiting myself to my mother Nation,
I have inscribed my life to all incarnations.
Torn between the battle of country and life,
Rolling up my sleeves, I toil all night,
Despite of craving to see my martyred death,
I hope to live again with each morning breath.
I might be hurdled but I may not stop,
With bullet shots zooming past my head,
Whatever I see is like imagery of the rest,
Shattered souls in the pool of blood shed,
“martyr feeling is the best”, taking his last breath he said.
I guess liberalising myself from the deadly commotions,
Would feel like being trapped a little more,
Clamping my hands to the rigid limitations,
It’s like assassinating the bird that freely soars.
Almighty, I wish that day doesn’t come,
When all my beliefs turn into none,
My greatest sacrifice is the more I give,
To lay down my life,
So someone else may live……
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