Stamped on pages of time-gnawed manuscripts,
an ancient tale is written in stone
a hidden saga with un-deciphered scripts
Skeletons of engineering marvels
Totter in modern cities
Filth and foul waters flow over human feet
Retribution for lessons unlearnt, forgotten.
Abstract musings or clear portraits?
On verge of usurping the throne of creation
yet undecided, unwilling to decode the past.
Saraswati sentenced to an underground dungeon.
Vitasta blackened by the sins of misguided generations.
Wayward thirst of parched clay, tears apart Satadru today.
Divine peaks flag off a heavenly flow,
Sindhu sashays gracefully down the glaciers
A blue symphony, once holding six sisterly hands
Her blessings replaced by barbed wires and territorial threats
Fertile basins spout blood over fragile eco systems while
Saptha Sindu oozes hate upon its conspiring playgrounds.
Seismic wisdom shakes gravestones of a golden past
We still carry hymns hidden under reverberating gun shots.
Green shadows of Mother Earth, do cool the smoldering suns here.
Let tectonic plates unite hearts into sharing a fragrant rice bowl
Pray our clay pots retain the earthy fragrance of inner knowledge
and lessons from history, replace cloudy miasmas of smoking egos.
an ancient tale is written in stone
a hidden saga with un-deciphered scripts
Skeletons of engineering marvels
Totter in modern cities
Filth and foul waters flow over human feet
Retribution for lessons unlearnt, forgotten.
Abstract musings or clear portraits?
On verge of usurping the throne of creation
yet undecided, unwilling to decode the past.
Saraswati sentenced to an underground dungeon.
Vitasta blackened by the sins of misguided generations.
Wayward thirst of parched clay, tears apart Satadru today.
Divine peaks flag off a heavenly flow,
Sindhu sashays gracefully down the glaciers
A blue symphony, once holding six sisterly hands
Her blessings replaced by barbed wires and territorial threats
Fertile basins spout blood over fragile eco systems while
Saptha Sindu oozes hate upon its conspiring playgrounds.
Seismic wisdom shakes gravestones of a golden past
We still carry hymns hidden under reverberating gun shots.
Green shadows of Mother Earth, do cool the smoldering suns here.
Let tectonic plates unite hearts into sharing a fragrant rice bowl
Pray our clay pots retain the earthy fragrance of inner knowledge
and lessons from history, replace cloudy miasmas of smoking egos.
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