Bullet-Pierced Map Poem by Kalam Azad

The sun is about to set. New moon appeared in the sky.
If the stars return back
Nobody will stare at the sky
Wayward wind breaths on the island of darkness.
In the window appears the untimely cloud

The map shivers in the western desert-wind
If that poisonous hand pierces bullet in the heart of Green and Red

In the electricity light the traders' city illuminates
The sun seems to be one-hundred sixty million people
The blood-red line that appears on the crimson Sun seems pale

In the Eastern rays the imperialism will be burnt to ashes.