My ancestors
are fierce and unyielding,
their hearts forever drawn to war.
Whenever I turn the pages of history,
I see them standing amidst battlefields.
In the chronicles I searched,
I saw Ravana,
I saw Lakshmana.
They stood against each other in war,
while Sita Devi wept in sorrow.
I often wonder why.
My ancestors
are fierce and unyielding,
their hearts forever drawn to war.
Whenever I turn the pages of history,
I see them standing amidst battlefields.
In the tales of old that I searched,
I saw Kamsa,
I saw Datta.
Again there was conflict and bloodshed,
while Kanha Devi cried in grief.
I often wonder why.
My ancestors
are fierce and unyielding,
their hearts forever drawn to war.
Whenever I turn the pages of history,
I see them standing amidst battlefields.
