Shahid-E-Azam

I stare at the sky

I stare at the ocean

The stars I stare

Are dim without motion

I stare those pigeons

That make love

The roses I stare

Are drowned in devotion

The grass is still green

And so is the water

The soil has the scent

Of the unmarried daughters

And the stout sons

Who wished to die for the land

And took the last breath

With pride holding the hand

Of death that showered no mercy.

It was a century ago 

When The bullet was naive

And so was the crowd

The lord entered with the men 

No men out was allowed

The day rained 

with the water of the red

And the night dozed 

On the thorned bed

The women were crushed

And so were the innocents

No kindness behoved 

Killed were the dissidents

Speaks the shallow breeze

The words of martyrs 

Blows with it the hollowness

Of the cramped abrasion

Of the day of festive

Hymns are sung of those who died

The sky witnessed, 

The mother earth cried

The colour of the nation

The saffron denied

To step back 

To hold in

To breathe the air all within

A voice ushered a million voice

A voice stood to crawl a noise

A noise in the heart of the man

Who was in the making

The twelve-year naive

With the oath-taking

To quell the feet of the alien rule

To submerge and die 

For the motherland too

To free the hearts and souls of steel

To give his brothers a moral upheave

His arms spoke valour and held the bravery

His words did deeds to set all free

And before he could 

his soul was arrested

Taken by heaven

For he was protested

On this ground that sheds blood

A land of reapers with malefic flood

And he shall not be resting there

The man in Neverland be fighting where

The horses crumble and cows toe

The birds sing and the seeds sow

His veins had an upsurging dwell

Shahid-e-Azam, 

A name to tell

A name to tell.