Blood slowly trickles down
Mingling with sweat and tears.
Blurred visions, broken steps
Explosions ringing in the ears.
In one quick swish of the sword,
An innocent brother is slain.
The rain washes away all sins,
A mother's memories remain.

Dragged by beastly hands
A sister abused by one of ours.
Time heals all the pains of life,
But the story told by scars.
Through it all, life endures.
Nurtured by those who care.
Breath of life to a brother fallen,
A helping hand stretched bare.

Smile on a girl's face, scarred,
Yet, bright as a beacon of hope.
Refuge to a grieving mother,
Teaching those living to cope.
All those fights for freedom,
Drowned in rivers of blood shed;
Mixed, united and incessant,
All to independence, they led.

What is independence, truly?
Free of shackles that bind us,
Escape from those we dislike,
But accept often, nonetheless?
To surrender what is left of us,
Be enslaved, chained, bound,
By those we accept and like?
A king dead, another crowned.

Happy Independence Day.

#India #MotherIndia #Independence #IndependenceDay
#FoundingFather #Brother #sister
#WhateverHappendToAllIndiansAreMyBrothersAndSisters

Poem © teshnair™
Not my picture. Would like to credit the artist.