Patriotism: A Feast For Crows

Long ago were sung,

Tales of victory fire and love.

One for the nation.

One for all,

Those who are now deep in the ground.

Gone are those days,

Where life had meaning,

And one would be remembered,

If it was spent,

Fighting for the country's new face.

How grand it must be,

To live for,

And die in the arms,

Of Mother India.

To find heaven after struggle,

After sacrificing it all.

Freedom of life,

Freedom of speech,

All are dust in the void,

When Twitter restricts our speech,

To 280 characters,

And life has no meaning,

If we don't have enough followers.

We fight over religion.

We fight over caste.

We fight over race.

But what we forgot,

Was to fight for our country.

Saluting for a selfie with the wrong hand,

While soldiers become martyrs,

For a country that has forgotten,

The price paid for its freedom.

To be felt, loved and preached

Instead of faked, shown and portrayed,

For our hearts to be

saffron, white, blue and green,

Instead of our statuses boasting a facade,

The patriotism we read in history,

Has now become a feast of crows.