Dear Country Poem by Mehta Hasmukh Amathaal

It is matter of shame
That we claim
After killing innocents
Armed or unarmed and sent

No outside interference shall work
As mothers are same for praising with words
There is no throne but national integrity
That is price for dear country

I have written often
The land is turned into hell
We are playing in the hands of militants
Killing soldiers who are there to defend and specially sent

Population shall be called untrustworthy
If they side with hostile country
Then claim for humanity
This makes our faith shaky

No mother shall love and like
That his sun is no more alive
Met with assassin’s bullet or in unruly crowd
The death is heard very loud