India asks.

Close your eyes, ordeal the past.
Look at skies, shadows that history cast.
Ask your heart, the cost of peace.
Ask on my part, what came with ease?
The strokes of fate hit me each year,
But this uncanny, Oh Dear!
Horrified by this mystic blow of time,
When will my children next edify and dine?
I shall always hail,
the burden of these graves,
Go on, endeavour your sail.
And I shall tell prosterity, they were the bravest of braves!
I pray for homecoming of ecstasy,
As I savour your will,
to bring back the days that now seem fantasy!
An era of distress and doubts,
I weep over this ambience of contemplation.
Though now, I acknowledge why each my street shouts,
' What's happening in the nation'.

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