Ode To The Intensity Of Sindh! Poem by Aadil Hingorjo

Sindh, to me, is like the deepest melancholy
Her beauty seems to be threatened
Her wounds grow deeper day by day
Partly healed, and is scratched over and again
She's my mother; my first word; and wisdom
Her sorrowful tones echo in my arteries
I'm her breathe, and she's my heart
My hopes, and all my faiths are from her
And to her, I return in every moment
My conscience is wedded to her soul
And she is always awake in my scripts
She will have to survive ahead
As she has been adoring humanity since long
Cradle of civilizations cries for her safety
From enmity, extremity, and inhumanity
She's the dream of dreamers;
And concrete reality for her sons
A nostalgic age, and a historic ocean
Corridored by desert, and flooded with music
She's the resistant verse of Latif
And a truly unbreakable word of Syed!
Have been silently listening to her cries
Like the wretched of the earth, she reveals her
In the humblest gestures, she sings to me
She and I both accompany each other
Under her burning sun, & enthusiastic evening
Right before her seashores, we smile calmly
When at distance, I miss her summers
Her summers soothe me; her winters whisper
With teary-eyed face, she sometimes sits silent
We smoke empty anthems for hour and hours
Nights pass by; ages wander around us
We remain so lost into each other
Such subtle philosophy is the ancient Indus
Now a days, injured but alive as always
Sindh, to me, is like an unbeatable era!