Kashmir’s Cry

Kashmir's Cry
A valley of whispers, once sweet and serene,
Now echoes with sorrow, a heart torn and keen.
The mountains still rise, majestic and grand,
But shadows of anguish lie heavy on the land.
The chinars weep tears of a crimson hue,
Stained by the bloodshed, a pain piercing through.
The rivers that flowed with a gentle embrace,
Now carry the echoes of fear and disgrace.
The voices that sang of love's tender art,
Are silenced by hatred that tears souls apart.
The laughter of children, a melody bright,
Is smothered by darkness, a long, endless night.
The roses that bloomed in vibrant array,
Are crushed by the boots that march day by day.
The dreams that were woven with hope and with grace,
Are shattered like glass, leaving not a trace.
The eyes that once sparkled with innocent glee,
Now reflect the horror, the cruelty they see.
The hands that once held a delicate flower,
Are bound by the chains of a merciless power.
Kashmir, a garden of beauty untold,
Now bleeds from the wounds, both new and old.
A plea for compassion, a desperate desire,
To heal the deep scars, to rekindle the fire.
Let peace be the dawn, let justice prevail,
Let love conquer hatred, let kindness set sail.
Let Kashmir's heart mend, let its spirit take flight,
And emerge from the darkness, into the warm light.
* Sehrab Sathoo