The leaves rustle,
the moon shines,
watch out,
They come from behind,
they'll take you away,
farther than you think,
they hunt, they kill.
you'll be dead before you blink,
Who shall save you if they may?
stop this killing
and turn night into day?
A flash of light,
they fall to the ground,
I hear shouts, I know its war.
A fearless warrior comes,
and takes out the door,
They have bloody swords,
kept in their cases,
cuts on their arms,
courage on their faces.
They all have Dastars
with Kirpans by their sides,
They shout, Bole So Nihaal,
Sat Sri Akal!!
We gallop off on horses,
traveling in great speed
They take me back,
Home is what I need.
They are bruised, but don't care,
the warrior has gashes on his knee.
They gallop off, leaving me home,
All of a sudden.... I am free.
For those who bring pain,
and like to see people suffer,
Not gentle like the rain,
if blood is what you need
To drink with evil greed,
Beware, I saw,
The Sikhs have come.
(The above poem is by Punit Kaur Khalsa, a high school student from California)
a really nice poem. i really enjoyed reading it. great job by the author and Panthic Weekly Singhs.
keep it up Singho!!!!!