~ protect the soul as the eyelids protect the eyes, ~ see past all of the former lies, ~ never ever despise, ~ and rise... ~ protect the brain as the pagh coloured red, ~ protects the head ~ tie the beard with a thread, ~ and continue to tread... ~ if we are to fly, ~ then the end will be nigh, ~ if we see well with the naked eye, ~ then the flag of the mighty Khalsa shall reign high... ~ the enemies shall shudder upon our sight, ~ for our auras shine bright, ~ for we are the sikh knights. ~ we are the lights, ~ this is the tale that the grandson of gps rahi writes... ~ the land of the two rivers shakes, ~ as the sikh folk continue to make mistakes, ~ everything is once more at stake, ~ if only their minds would remain awake... ~ the sun has set, ~ the city folk place a bet, ~ will the khalsa once more be a threat? ~ or have they fallen deep into fictitious debt... ~ the wind, ~ attacks the many pinds, ~ but will the agricultural laws rescind? ~ the land afar yelps a deep cry, ~ but many of the sikh folk, have already said their goodbye, ~ dare I ask, will another saviour drop from the sky? ~ I bow before ranjit singh, ~ the chosen king. ~ I bow before hari singh ~ my ancestor who served the people well, ~ may the people once more rebel, ~ but till then... this is farewell.
#descedentsofthetigerkiller 06/10/2020
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