4. Ode to Pakistan Revolution
By JH Sayyar
1
O rise, O rage, from mountains steep and plain,
Let not our silence fuel their gilded reign.
The jackals feast while children cry for bread,
And dreams of youth lie broken, lost, and bled.
2
From Margalla to Sindh’s dust-swept soul,
The call for justice bellows, fierce and whole.
The people's hearts, once drowned in dread and fear,
Now thunder loud—the reckoning draws near
3
No longer shall the throne of thieves endure,
Their lies are rot, their pledges far from pure.
They sell our gold, our soil, our sacred trust,
To foreign hands for greed and worthless lust
4
Parliaments of shame, where vultures sit,
Each law they pass a deeper, darker pit.
Their ballots bloodied, voices bought and sold,
A nation raped by power, blind and cold.
5
But see—the fire stirs in every street,
In every hand, a stone, a pulse, a beat
The banner lifted not for kings, but kin,
For truth to rise, and justice once to win
6
Insurrection, not for wrath alone
But for a land to finally be our own
Let tyrants tremble, let their palaces fall,
The people march and God walks with us all.
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