Poem Poem by Prativa Dey

Poem you wake up With your glory Take a bath in fresh blood In my ink, That is wrong Become my pen, Where people lose their value to people. So my skin became black. Where the world is today The primitive era came Far away, now primitiveness is not forgotten, Get up, my pen With a vigilant eye. Who plays with creation To save one's self Let it be ancient In my pen, Destroy civilization Vile behavior in the name of May be Wake up May be more than God Can't come to the front Man is in his arrogance Disbelief will befall him. So in the hands of the people Has given up power