The chains will break

I would have been asked my last wish executioner, Hang me on the couch, so you don't break a sweat. Those traces of my blood are still in prison, The wounds your masters have inflicted on my body. The wounds on my forehead are also raw To tell the oppressor that they are stories of my oppression Say that those who have put wooden locks on my tongue There is only helplessness, they will break, there are no diamonds How do they sleep after desolating my settlements? How do you live after killing my children everyday. These chains will be cut one day, they have all said But how will you live, history has written all this This arrogance of yours will be lubricated some day. When that glorious army will come from the east, we have heard Your blood will flow in the Ganges and yamuna, that is also obvious. The throne will be ours. We are hoping for this day.