The Bequeathed

(Praveen Vava)

A song questioning the greed for land and the legacy of war we leave behind…

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Is the thought worse than the deed, what's worse
the hand the pulls the trigger or the thought that sows the seed
this impure mind that such thoughts creates
behind the white mask trying to hide
blood stained mind or clean spotless hands
looking around, drenched in red, how can one understand.
the blood spilt to wash the slate clean
brown infused with red does not make green
a new beginning or the past lost, what does it mean
painted in red, now unseen, 
the slayers sung as heroes, 
for the blind votaries, a brand new shrine.
 
This hate, how did it take birth
ignorance soaked in greed
of strength and noble thoughts and its dearth
how could one measure the life of another, and its worth
wanting to own what one cannot with him take
what was there always before him and after him forever remain
the guns urged by the unknown's word
the bullets blind to the victims creed
the rules devised to free us from within
when and how did it these animals breed
how can the source of our inner strength
reconcile the breaking of its own law
what was chaste when made 
has now, its purity withdrawn.
 
Breathe, breathe, breathe
look at the legacy you bequeath
brown infused with red does not make green.
© Praveen Vava 2019