• ~ Mark Twain

    ~ Mark Twain

    "Loyalty to country ALWAYS. Loyalty to government, when it deserves it."
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    The Colour of My Blood

    Might and main, I crossed the end of my street

    and they readily asked me my caste

    with a smile brimming with disdain, I retraced my feet

    Wondering, had my blood saved their breaths at last,

    Would they have still questioned its sanctity?

    Had then, the flowing crimson washed away

    the identity of my caste and lineage?

     

    By and by, I crossed the bounds of my city

    And they heedlessly asked me my religion

    Futile to explain, our inception lies in one eternal deity,

    revere it with Green or smear it with Vermillion.

     

    I crossed the extremes and borders of my country

    And I became an Indian when all was said and done

    A dweller of the brown soil, seeking equality

    Eventually settled, ensuing a far and wide run

    I shall breathe my last one fine day and cross this world

    And then they will realize I am still and all, a human

    I am a star of this eternal sky, forged into my mortal mould

    Descending on earth, I found myself, my colour, voice and clan

    I sought peace, loyalty and freedom but at every turning

    Found war, infidelity and borders, drenched in blood of men tough

    We all shall merge in the eternity, after burying or burning

    Till then, we are humans, isn’t living and loving enough?

    Travelling, infested with endless wanderlust, far and wide

    I discovered the colour of my blood, which was much the same

    to the one who asked me my caste and religion, travelling alongside

    and the ones who spilled blood, fighting for reasons such lame.

     

    – Dedicated to men who died protecting borders and killed in communal violence.

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