My Kashmir is bleeding…

The vibrant atmosphere of the foreign land is tormenting my heart …
I miss — the desolate Kashmir …my heart …
The birds come everyday, chirping makes me sad…
It feels like news coming from my land … every single day is bad…
All views of Kashmir where I spent my child hood days…
The gardens are crying and the birds are withering many ways,
Loved ones are missed and those memories, all the meetings…
They are harassing me, walking me up, making me cry those greetings …
My paradise is blood soaked, there are valleys terrified…
Princesses are waiting for freedom feeling horrified …

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