Is it the sacred soil that you are prepared to defend?
Will it be the lip services and you mean to pretend?
It has always remained great honor in defending the motherland
How many people have shed their blood in defending the fatherland?
It is our glorious past that keeps on striking the mind all the way
It is national honor and pride that we may protect and have no other sway
The basic question is who will rise and revolt?
The assault may be all of sudden and may come as blue from bolt
this can be countered effectively with fine resolve,
if we are ready to go to any extent with the aim to solve
There are enemies outside and from within
They form invisible line and firmly set in
There main task is to sabotage the peace talk
Wreck the economy and wait for cake walk
It is easy to flat the enemy on ground
There may be some separate ways and it has to be found
The enemy may strike from within by remaining invisible
They may breach the defense line and force us to be defensible
How do we arouse the national feeling?
How many may come forward from their own and willing?
Will it not be called a significant move to attain martyrdom?
Will it not be considered a token prize for preserving freedom?
Will it not a weakening sign if we fail to respond to a call?
The enemy may be waiting to get in to break the wall
It may be their pre plan to catch us off the guard
It is known practice and procedure very standard
You may loose your precious life and perish
The war may not come an end easily or finish
it may be their grand design and simple wish
We are loosing everything and chances simply diminish
Let right thinking poets come forward,
Let them not wait for any trophy or reward,
Time may tell about your contribution for struggle
Your pen may strike and enemy may face the trouble
Everybody should raise banner with single voice,
Who ever is there must have other choice
the sky should be limit and eagles should dare
Enemy should be wiped out and found no where
There may be cause and enough reasons
The nation may pay homage for brave sons
It is the history that speak well of martyrs
Eyes always down and eyes full of tears