Where terror, hatred, death, pain are words of yesteryear,
never again to hear
& children who beg & toil all day become children again;
run, play, shout without fear
Where rulers are neither vote-hungry, beetle stained men
nor descendants of uncanny royalty
but those with selfless, scrupulous souls
who hold the will to return its ‘lost chance’ to peace
Where eyes peering from behind the veil laugh & marvel
at rainbows in their full splendour
& fire burns not in homes & trains but on sand,
under stars, in sparkling ember
In the wake of the new year
today at dusk we wait, the brightest dawn, to see
crops up from blood & tears of the past
an undying dream to breathe & live ‘free’
As the scorching sun, for the last time in fifty-two weeks,
crumbles into a placid, silver-blue sea;
a hundred billion voices roar:”Give the world of my dreams to me!”
