The greatest robber rules my land,

With his legions of flatterers,

And the vilest thugs make mischief here,

Because they have been given a free hand.

Militancy and terrorism are used by these men,

Who speak lies on radio, in dailies and the T.V.,

These burglars have raped my Quaid's* motherland,

And sold her sanctity to replenish their semen.

I cannot name them because then these cowards,

Who pose themselves as our rulers and leaders,

Will not think twice to vent their wrath on me,

As they know my words are a keen and sharp sword.

For more than sixty years Pakistan has suffered,

At the hands of despots and kleptocratic maniacs,

Who beguile the mobs like Brutus, Casca and Cassius,

Did after assassinating Rome's Julius Caesar.

My country is going to the dogs as the saying goes,

And the poor and the meek are fully aware of all this,

Yet very few like me have the boldness and courage,

Very few who can bask in the light of good character.

The politicians have defiled my Quaid\s sacred land,

And with them are the bureacrats and hedonistic bands,

Of so-called writers, thinkers and analysts,

They are also to be blamed for corrupting good brands...

Good brands of young men, women and children,

And even silencing with disrespect the old generation,

My country, my beloved Pakistan, is no longer "pure",

As these Satanic warlords have spread their domination,

Through the use of wealth, doled out by foreign hands,

And also by giving weapons in little, innocent hands.

There is no food for the hungry, nor even clean water,

By which an unfortunate boy or girl may satisfy hunger.

There is no comfort inside homes, the hearths of many,

Nor is there peace of mind for those who toil for money.

Yet, the robber and his team of murderous burglars,

Keeps begging from the world with a martyred lady's picture.

He is only following what he has learned from predecessors,

In the civilian garbs and in the echelons of power.

There is no clean air...not even that for us...the commoners,

As the luxurious cars of the rich spill out matter,

That makes even breathing fresh air quite difficult.

What more should I explain about other hidden dangers?

Yet, what these robbers and murdering legions of Satan,

Have not learned is the lesson of our history,

That God Almighty's justice is silent and sudden.

May my Allah, my ever Protecting Guardian,

Make Pakistan the land of Quaid's vision,

And may His Hand of Great Power strike so powerfully,

That no signs remain of any power-hungry lesion.

And in the end I would like you all to pray,

That Almighty Allah keeps us safe in His sway,

And protects us from these treacherous murderers forever,

As He always protects and saves those who trust in His Power.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

*QUAID: Quaid-e-Azam, the title conferred on the father of the nation, the honourable Muhammad Ali Jinnah.

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palewingedpoetess's picture

I was deeply moved by your great love for your home land. Being an American I am highly patriotic and proud and love my country. I love seeing it in others for their own countries as I believe it is the way anyone should go. No matter the faults it is your mother country. I loved your fiery irate passion in this piece. It bespeaks great deep love you have for your home land. I read somewhere 'its the fire in the soul that fuels the joi de vive!' and you know how so very much I love your fire. you know who..... so why type it? lol