Into the stone my wails I whispered
The story of my fretful past
When the pride and courage conferred
All but scattered and shall not last
I can hardly feel the glow
And with arrival of dire words it arose
It came to pass the hard blow
Departed from my mother they engross
I must face truth of disruptive
Arch enemy which I despise the most
Turns out to be my blood relative
And fate forced me to pay the cost
Yet shall I fight along them rather?
To cast a hatred upon my own kin
While deep inside my conscience quiver?
Gallantry shall not be within
No, they are my nourisher
Despicable and disdainful they be
Yet from my scarcity they foster
From a Sudra into a Ksatria they let me be
Oh, shall I cross the path?
Facing against my own nurturer
Dauntless maybe I hath
Yet to die I shall be eager
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