Marching to the Land
– Ranajoy Adhikary
O March O March!
O March to the land,
Where grievances reside but in the hands of Man,
Where the winters flock to pierce death,
Where summers call for the winter’s head.
O March O March!
To that pure land,
Where they drown to kill but not to harm,
Where we stand to kill pain,
And we kill but not in vain.
O March O March!
To the land of death,
Which is as easy as tossing tails or head,
To infinite wings of valour heighten,
Of which death and pains do frighten.
O March O March!
To that lonely land,
Take lead my son, pay heed to my words,
Not all is what you see through eyes,
Deeper than them are the demon’s cries.
