Indian Defence Review

An eternal civilization was split as a parting colonial gift; 
The rupture continues to bleed from ever growing rift,
Rivers of blood burst artificial borders in the torrential flow, 
 It was the weapon of religion that dealt the fatal blow.

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Hallucinating as descendants of conquerors demanded the’ land of pure’,
 Till today their delusions of grandeur have not found any cure.
Humbled in wars and halved in size, 
The delusion persists in terror’s guise.

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A country that reduces to feeding on blood of its people and neighbors, 
Will ideologically and physically whither, seeking new benefactors for favors.
A country that imbues its children with paranoia and hatred of others, 
Cannot survive no matter how many all-weather friends adopted brothers.

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Oh the oppressed people of the ‘land of pure’, 
Rise, revolt and reclaim what is rightfully yours.
Reclaim your civilization and the land of your forefathers, 
Your salvation lies in re-connecting with your ancestors.