In the twilight of my ride,
In the final bout I face,
In the tender smile I give,
In the last goodbye I bid.
Today, some lost a guiding hand,
Some lost a heart's embrace,
Some now fatherless stand,
And some become a widow's grace.
Mother, should you find my lifeless form,
It's for the soil that bore me warm.
Father, if you claim my lifeless frame,
It's for the name that marks my claim.
When we meet beyond this fleeting time,
If I'm not there to stand in line,
Know, my dear, I set you free,
No longer bound, but ever free.
You may weep for words unsaid,
Regretting the last farewell not made.
Realize, those words we shared,
Now memories, the last breath spared.
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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