FOR THE VOICES UNHEARD

In the land beneath the woods
Where my ancestors grew life in glory:
There the sun proclaims strength
And there glowed in beauty-
A scene of valour and honour,
Tied by the bonds of “khankho nunkho”.

“That’s where we grew up.”
“That’s home!” They tell me.
“When are we going back?”
“Where is daddy?” they asked.
Pain of innocence and childhood murdered;
Of years down to ashes.

It burns to realise
I could not touch them
With the magic they crave,
To heal the wounds of the heart’s torture-
When home is no longer near to hold,
When sweat of hardwork is now but tears.

Cries for what is missed and departed;
Angst of the void time will bring.
Yet, we hold each dear
With a presence of power to see the next sun.
In heart and voices we thrive;
Ceaseless, our scream to be heard.

A story of agonising history
Into a tale of worthwhile esteem-
Of sacrifices immortalized;
Of growing minds defying suppression.
When again the nights echo tranquility,
And children are safe in smiles of home.

When again, the church bells ring in vehemence
To be engraved in the stones of time-
“God is our refuge and strength.”