Our Great Nation Poem by Prabir Gayen

Our Great Nation
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The Sun is Underground,
The Moon is bleeding hard,
Democracy is a great farce,
Leaders are leading the nation,
Like cannibals reign,
Society is a tattered cloth,
The mirror has become mirage,
Dead men flocking dead sheep.
Truth is a word once vibrated,
In the soil of our great Land,
All the ghosts incarnated as men,
Divine souls have no place,
False repeatedly said becomes Truth,
Falsified truth is now ideal to chase,
Ideal is a mean word with sugarcoat,
It is intoxication having no sense,
Truth is beyond ideal as it is dream.
With the lack of knowledge: wisdom,
Nation is heading towards dark dukedom,
Like Foxes are latching the sleeping Lions,
Vultures are chasing Eagles for hunt.
Like Plutus or Shylock Leaders are routes,
Leading dumb multitude to Hades,
India Now is a dead dungeon,
for all The Great.
The Sun the source of life,
and The Moon,
That nurtures ideals to flow like rivers,
The Stars that flicker to ignite wisdom,
On the soil of our Land
become dead cadavers,
Only a soul free from Condition,
inspired by divine Nature,
having no choice,
Contented having nothing,
and pure belongingness,
Can Save This drooping Nation.
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