[The un-welcomed Land I belonged to…]
The dead walked again,
From what they called camps.
They stumbled again,
But they had hands
To hold them from the fall.
This time, they had hope sparkling
In the eyes of their heirs.
The hope that even the
weary hearts clung to,
All the way to their New shelter.
The hope that gave them the reason
To migrate,
It gave them the reason to struggle,
To begin everything from scratch, all over again.
The memories of their lost glorious land
Still Afresh
The memories of their recent cramped camps
Still haunting
They moved towards the
New beginning.
The new land was different;
Nothing like their loved land,
Not like the two roomed clustered camps.
New place, new people, New life they landed
With Hearts still weeping for the lost land.
Mind full of memories, good and bad
They stood in nations industrialized.
