Heroes of Pain

They bled and lost limbs
Their ribs broken and teeth pulled out
Their houses torched and property confiscated
But their love for this land only got magnified
They fought with every crude weapon
Wielding machetes against guns
Fighting for liberation of a people
Burdened by yoke of colonialism

Their families broken and children slaughtered
Wives raped and impregnated with hate
All the while the battle field getting hotter
With scarcity of supplies as all paths got barricaded
Fighters slowly getting cut-off a people they fought for

Hunger and mosquito bites in the dense forests
Snake bites and cold nights attempting to slay their dreams
For a liberal nation devoid of violent expeditions
The unwelcomed guest had turned into host
Fighting home owners and killing for what they owned

Blood was spilled and wolves fed on what the bullet couldn’t munch
Human bones pilling in forest floors as blood painted the sand red
Spartacus knows that blood plus sand doesn’t make any solution
But with every blood that spilt, the battlefield got darker
Darker for the enemy, darker for the villain playing hero
In a war it poked to rise like smoke from forest fire

In the end the villains left in a huff
Disappointed to have lost a war
They didn’t have to fight
But is this victory relevant
If we continue hating ourselves
on the basis of tribal differences?
I don’t know much but I know this,
If these heroes fought themselves
Along tribal lines, the colonizers could have watched in awe
As their victory could have been guaranteed

Different tribes, One nation
That’s all it took to gain freedom

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