For the Persecuted
I saw the road .
No footprints marred its dust
I took the road
That nobody travelled
I saw
what nobody saw
And came back
broken , angry and raw
But that is
what happens when you
set out for me
Sometimes
The road is hard and long
When the borders of right
Get tainted with wrong
But the road has its master
And so too have i
So i kept on travelling
Without stopping
To cry
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