On The Edge — A Political Poem
Voice of the oppressed
Fed up with the state of affairs here
No hope whatsoever happens around there
People are dying, starving to death, yet no care
All about religion is what they care
Yesterday’s criminals have become today’s rulers
Punishing the reformers for their action layers
Champions of social justice paraded as minority appeasers
Communal polarisers and riot mongers the new lovers
Hate to see my family getting killed I swear
To fight or to escape, deep in thoughts a world’s weight I bear
For my family is beyond my caste, it's beyond gender or sex, I hear
Every assault on their back is mine to bear
Beyond the shams of religion and race, I feel the pain
For all the oppressed are my family, slain
Echoes of wailing and screams of fear upon the plain
The valley’s grass getting burned, as hopes were slain
Ruled by religious fanatics, the worst of kind
The ones who laugh at the cries of minority kind
Beasts who devour the harvest of communal riots, lined
Demons who feast upon the fear of the gullible kind
May there be no light, but we shall not bow to their kind
May us be the inferior race, the Dravidians shall unite against their kind
May us be the blacks among their absurd fairness cream ads
We, being oppressed by the fallacy of unity, the Aryan charades
Let there be no hopes from their side
The mighty’s pride of easy victory up the slide
For the oppressed shall not give up without a fight
Till the last breath, we shall fight over their might
