Tortured land

When I breathe, I feel guilty

Guilty because she can breathe no more

When I think, I feel guilty

Guilty because she can think no more

When I sit down to eat, I feel guilty

Guilty because she can sit down no more

Because she can eat no more.

Tortured land soaked in blood

Red blood, blood of another Bhutto;

Forces of darkness thirsty for her blood

Drink all you can, drink all month long

Drink till your dark hearts content;

With so much evil all around

One could easily die of guilt.

Forces of darkness everywhere

Those who talk about religion the most

Know it the least;

Death worshippers wherever you go

Songs of death they sing

Dances of death they dance;

They eat our young

Venom is what they secrete

Human blood is what they drink.

Living in this theatre of destruction

Drinking from streams of blood

Surrounded by walls of hate

Living in this pool of poison

One might as well die of guilt;

Living in this culture of death

One might as well die of guilt.

Living with hope for long

Hope now dead and buried;

Faces depressed, eyes soaked wherever I go

Miserable, dejected, low and disheartened

No hope, no love, no soul

No joy, no delight, no cheer;

If a hundred sixty million weep all month long

Will hope come back, the sun shine again?

Cry my countrymen and women

Living on the edge for long, now fallen off the cliff

All pain and no hope, no sleep and no dream.

Daughter of destiny was back

Nerves of steel were back

She’s been the PM, not once but twice

She’s seen fame and glory

She’s been an icon and an idol

She’s been a luminary and a leading light;

Daughter of a PM, granddaughter of a PM.

Mother of Bilawal, Bakhtawar and Asifa

A mother’s life on line, a wife’s life at stake

Tortured land your saviour is no more.

How much blood can we drink?

We let our country burn

Helpless, defenceless and friendless

Paralyzed, pinned and powerless

How many more seasons in the abyss?

She was magic, she connected like no other

She won hearts and minds;

Her own life at stake, her country’s future on the edge;

Democracy, moderation, army all under attack;

For democracy, the Champion of Democracy was back;

For moderation, the Face of Moderation was back

Tortured land your saviour is no more.

She had no guns, she had no bombs

She wanted a peaceful transition

From despotism to democracy

From despair to hope

She wanted end to violence

Violence in the name of religion

Violence in the name of God;

Symbol of federation no more.

She wanted no mayhem, no chaos

Let’s make her happy if only for once

Keep calm, no mayhem no chaos

Let’s put our act together

Let’s put our country together.

Cry my countrymen weep, howl or wail

I have never heard a story more painful than this before;

Full of pain, misery and grief

Sorrow, regret and disbelief

I have never told a story more painful than this before;

Will I be able to think again?

Will I be able to write again?

Will I be able to love again?

Bilawal, Bakhtawar and Asifa cry no more

God loved Benazir more than we did

God wanted her more than we did

With angels our angel now sleeps.

By Dr Farrukh Saleem
12/30/2007

 

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