Unweave That Shroud | Sajla Chawla

They sit in the wilderness of a land
That once was a civilization great
And together weave a black shroud
For a people uncovered by hate

And they smile and tell stories
Of an era not so long ago
When he walked miles in long summers
That man in a white lion cloth

Millions perished and suffered
To attain that freedom at midnight
Which now flounders ailing, wailing
Amidst people too callous to fight

Now men in suits of arrogant lakhs
Walk the amoral power corridors
Squandering what was dearly earned
By their humble forefathers

The shroud is almost ready now
To veil what’s ugly and shameful
And yet few lone voices roar
To root out the brazen evil

They look to those voices of courage
Who’ll come and un-weave this shroud of death
Needle by needle, stitch by stitch
Raise the dead conscience, breath by breath.