The myriad is greeted with a tinge of hope
The children sing in unison
In the pond of purity, the masses rejoice
Indians finally taste ecstasy
Where the sloth is isolated
the brood is in despair
the rhetoric is silent
Indians are finally free
The guise of pseudo is known
The vision of evil is foreseen
The face of oblivion is scarred
Indians are finally enlightened
The 'SHE' respected
The 'WE' elated
The 'I' felled
Indians are finally united
P.S.This poem was written in 1996 for my college magazine.Found a copy of the magazine and thought should share the poem with the world
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