It's not a natural disaster that took my brothers' lives,
Not a tragic accident that silenced my sisters' cries.
It's not hunger that muted my mothers' voices,
Not the waves that swallowed the innocent, helpless choices.
It's the hands of the powerful, the greedy and the cold,
That brought destruction, pillage, and a story untold.
Their lust for power, their thirst for control,
Led to the cries for help that still echo in my soul.
Their cries for justice, their pleas for peace,
Still resonate within me, a haunting, endless release.
Oh, the cruelty of humanity, how it pierces my heart,
How it mocks the heavens, and tears our world apart.
Yet still, I hold on to hope, a glimmer of light,
A chance for justice, a dawn that will bring new sight.
A time when the wicked will face their crimes,
And the innocent will find peace, in a world that's truly mine.
Thingkho Le Malcha (TLM) is a traditional method of communication used to send out messages across the Kuki hills during the Anglo-Kuki War,1917-1919... more
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