It's Everything for Us

On 14th August a radio rang near,
“Congratulations! Pakistan is born.”
Those words still hold through each and every year—
A dream fulfilled through thistles and thorns.

The Quaid stood still beside the silent train,
With lifeless bodies, dreams in their eyes.
They died with hope to touch this sacred plain,
So freedom’s light could rise and never die.

Yet our foes hold fast their bitter pact,
From Gaza’s cries to Kashmir’s silenced fame.
In Sindoor’s name, again we are attacked,
A child is lost, a mosque reduced to flame.

But this land stands—and so does every breath,

For us, 14th August means life or death.