The meadow of death.

...... Poem.... .. THE MEADOW OF DEATH. ..... When they say, live long, bro! I wana say, were? How could i? This is not the place as it was. Now, We are cattle in a meadow, Fastened with long rops, Tightened with shakels and fetters, Each moment the rope gets tightned. The ferny green is withering, Trees turning brown, stones dun, Birds stoped chirping, falcons died young, Now hunter celebrates victory, drover busy tightening our noose. Every being is dying, every flower is shriveling, You can't protest, you cannot speak, If you do, the hunter will hit, You are fastened to a peg, The more you graze, the more it clouts. Oh! The meadow of confusion, Sans the leader, sans the idea.. . Fear is engulfing, fear is fatal. The more you fear, The more you will die. ...... AFTAB TARIQ.... The peg we are fastened to, Dwells deep, hard to annihilate, Yet not impossible to break