Kabir Deb writes

GIVE US OUR GRAVES....

You bring up the pace to change 

In a country, where even crows are hungry  

Everytime a voice rises you take it to silence 

Respect in your words means 'to kneel' 

"If you fail then you should bleed" your tongue utters 

Intimidating words turn the crows into pests 

You stand tall to fail your duty behind the screen 

The audience applauds the rotten bodies  

Never ever will they try to touch it 

Because the stage is being guarded from corners  

Snipers around you shoot the brave crow 

Which tries to live, to fly, to confront the lie  

Your world they think of as a paradise 

Where they will drink the wine made of blood  

Blood of the people who never had to surrender 

Neither they had to show "What they really are" 

We knew what we are, and the "We" always reigned 

But in your world the letter "I" reigns  

A world where everyday a "We" faces an apocalypse 

In the form of bullet punctured body 

Maybe theirs or of the people who they lived for 

In the form of looted houses 

Which they never thought as home 

Because your fear worked like a clock  

Everything comes in a continuous way 

Even the looters and the poor looted ones 

Your angels have pockets filled with money 

And mouths filled with smuggled bullets  

But for you they are "not smuggled" 

Their mind is empty like the road you are moving in  

Still they are angels for you, while the rest are just pawns 

With tied hands they plead to stop the acid  

But you keep on pouring with your pests 

When they rise as a breed of untamed gargoyles 

You shoot them with the pawns you manhandled 

Your world believes in money from the dead crows  

To feed the stomach filled pests 

While you keep on changing the world one by one 

Your aim feeds on the bodies of the already rotten 

In this world, even the world has given up  

And you still believe that we have given up 

We are dead, but you have not given us our grave 

It still lies in your pocket along with your pests 

Fear the world you are living in  

Because that is where you will reign with limited fingers 

Measure its boundaries, with accuracy 

You will find that it's shortening like your rule 

Keep ticking the clock of your fear 

And you will face the truth.

 Shades of Gray -- Delilah Smith