I'm the wail of the crying valley, where living in heaven has become the hell,
O You Tyrant! You changed the 'Mornings' to 'Mournings' well,
Our blossoms are being plucked before they flower where your blossoms are ringing the bell,
Rest are silent no matter what , where our tulips are murdered in cell.

Here living in heaven has become the hell.

You may have dawn , you may have dusk,
Bringing the milk From the market is here a risk.
Revolver in a hand & shooting right at the aim is here a fame,
While fighting bullets and pellets with a stone is here a shame!

Oh My People ! Dont be sad!
Resisting the occupation is not bad
We will rise & they will fade
©zeeshanfazil