A Saga of Sovereignty

I penned a poem this Independence Day (India) for the Mass Communications Club magazine in my school and those idiots published less than three paragraphs in it because they were ‘short on paper’, so it didn’t really sum up the message. 

This has been in my ‘unpublished posts’ since a really long time, so I feel that its high time that I should do justice to it. 

Looking back seventy years from this day,

We stood free at long last, distant from the dismay,

And tyranny and agony that encaged us for centuries,

The land of my country, now spoke words of autonomy.

The town’s painted with blood and tears before,

Covered with wounds which left us defaced and sore,

Now bloomed with liberty, passion and power,

We solemnly swore that never again will we cower. 

Like a Phoenix we rose, out of the soot and ruins, 

Fiery and ablaze, never to fall back into that abyss.

It wasn’t just yarn spun on the mighty spinning wheel,

But tales of rebels and martyrs made of glistening steel. 

Hope had never left their indomitable souls, 

Even after being brutally downtrodden,

The wind still carries their holy ash,

Keeping them eternally unforgotten.