She is like the waking dawn, of a nation
Dew of tomorrow’s silent glory
The star of conspiring universe
Raging sea and the wind, of destiny blows within
Her starry fair,
Time becomes the messenger of love
I loved her but she never knew my heart beat,
I am only a lone traveller
In this ancient land.
She is a poem written, in tears and blood
The dreams slept into eternity
And I wept in solitude.
Siddharth P.K. Kochi
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