And rivers flow where silence lies,
Two nations born in blood and flame,
Still echo old disputes and blame.
A valley wrapped in beauty's grace,
Now bears the scars of a bitter chase.
In forty-seven, lines were drawn,
But justice weeps at every dawn.
Kashmir, a name both hearts repeat,
A paradise beneath their feet.
Yet paradise has turned to strife,
As bullets dance and fade young life.
One side claims what's not its own,
The other mourns in muted tone.
No holy cause, no righteous aim,
Can justify this deadly game.
They speak in smoke, in steel and shell,
And turn the hills to living hell.
But war has never paved the way—
It steals the light and darks the day.
Oh brothers once by soil and name,
Why fan the fire, why play this game?
For every bomb that shakes the land,
A mother weeps, a child can't stand.
There is no peace behind a gun,
No justice when the war is won.
The only victory that holds true,
Is when the table welcomes two.
Come sit, not shout, come talk, not fight,
For only words can lead to right.
Let ink and paper write the fate—
Not hatred's hand, not vengeance's weight.
So let the borders breathe again,
Let hearts break free from years of pain.
Let Kashmir bloom in peace and grace,
Not blood and tears in heaven’s place.
Imran Nazeer
~ ~ ~
~ ~ ~
Post a Comment