I live on the myth-shattering place called the earth.
Some plainly call it earth, while for the others it's simply reclaimed land from the ocean.
Alas! Nobody would have imagined that it was a place once claimed by aborigines, inhabited by animals.
Then, civilization came!
My land was invaded and possessed by Arab civilization.
It lay silent, muted as it witnessed fight among men as weapons were used as the best defense for occupation.
The British occupied massacred, occupied my land.
My people were exploited and send far away in the land occupied by the colonial powers.
Somehow, my soul was entrenched in my part of the land.
My land became independent.
Yet, not much has changed in my land.
It was bartered and they now call it, 'real estate' boom.
They attached a price tag to my land so that I am thrown out of my land.
Me and my brothers have been rendered homeless in my own world.
We sleep on the streets because the superpower have sealed our own future.
As I stand on my land, I up my gaze to focus on the sky rocketed buildings.
Standing on my own land, I focus on my own land that I cannot enter.
They are making an easy buck on my back and I cannot enter that belong to me.
My land is separated by the Arabian Sea.
I have a price to pay for everything on my own land.
Toll tax, municipal tax and to sleep as well.
It's a case of the owner owned by forces of capitalists.
Everyday, hordes of immigrants storm the land.
They are our own people who thought they could move freely.
Yet, they are called 'migrants' in their own lands.
They have cut trees, constructed buildings on hills and drove the birds away.
They looted people in the name of civilization to own my land.
They invented and re-invented the wheels of the law on unoccupied land.
This is my land.
Can we dream of reclaiming our land?
I doubt!
Some plainly call it earth, while for the others it's simply reclaimed land from the ocean.
Alas! Nobody would have imagined that it was a place once claimed by aborigines, inhabited by animals.
Then, civilization came!
My land was invaded and possessed by Arab civilization.
It lay silent, muted as it witnessed fight among men as weapons were used as the best defense for occupation.
The British occupied massacred, occupied my land.
My people were exploited and send far away in the land occupied by the colonial powers.
Somehow, my soul was entrenched in my part of the land.
My land became independent.
Yet, not much has changed in my land.
It was bartered and they now call it, 'real estate' boom.
They attached a price tag to my land so that I am thrown out of my land.
Me and my brothers have been rendered homeless in my own world.
We sleep on the streets because the superpower have sealed our own future.
As I stand on my land, I up my gaze to focus on the sky rocketed buildings.
Standing on my own land, I focus on my own land that I cannot enter.
They are making an easy buck on my back and I cannot enter that belong to me.
My land is separated by the Arabian Sea.
I have a price to pay for everything on my own land.
Toll tax, municipal tax and to sleep as well.
It's a case of the owner owned by forces of capitalists.
Everyday, hordes of immigrants storm the land.
They are our own people who thought they could move freely.
Yet, they are called 'migrants' in their own lands.
They have cut trees, constructed buildings on hills and drove the birds away.
They looted people in the name of civilization to own my land.
They invented and re-invented the wheels of the law on unoccupied land.
This is my land.
Can we dream of reclaiming our land?
I doubt!
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