Wednesday, 4 January 2012

I am the breaker of your Babri, Godse to Thy Ram

Gandhi, Ghalib & the Geeta, we are their Mahmuds until
A Somnath, our stone heart, Ayaz loot at Thy Will
I am the berserker of your Babri, Godse to Thy Ram
Befriend me, or end me- Say, brother, where's the harm?

Krishna is ink's colour, thus Kufr to Khalil's Quran
Thy face, Friendship's page, but I its Bilal Azan
Gandhi or Ghalib- Sahir- our guilt yet is clear
 Gita we hear distant tho' all Sukhan is but here.

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