Fighting for Freedom

Last night I dreamt of you,
In the dark alleys of night,
Wandering like a cold soul,
Wearing a veil to hide emotional you.
Eyes seething with pain,
Had someone died again,
Did he belong to you?
Before I could ask,
You vanished like bubbles do.
On the light-blue shirt,
I saw patterns,
Flush of red,
Looked to me as if blood,
Was someone killed again?
Far from a distance,
Was a lonely mosque,
Reflecting green,
Shining in the moonlight,
I heard some noises,
A few slogans,
Of people wanting 'freedom.'
What is ‘Azadi’?
Asked the little boy.
Before I could reply,
A bullet broke the silent night.
Big thud, and he fell,
His rolling eyes and the crimson blood.
A melancholy swallowed the night,
Right is wrong and wrong is right,
So much bloodshed,
Nothing quenches hatred,
Another day, another life,
World tip-toes on a knife,
And they keep talking,
forever,
Peace comes never,
So they keep crying,
For another husband, another son,
For a lost world where no one has won.

And never will.