Its Spirit Poem by Mehta Hasmukh Amathaal

Its spirit

I gave no thinking
But continued speaking
To self and idle mind
Why am I so blind?

Why do I not see love?
And believe
In its spirit
With intention to greet

Why do I need?
When it bleeds
For no fault of innocents
Heaven is made for them to be sent

Terrorist think 'heaven is assured '
So kill or get killed
Brain is washed to think of nothing
God wanted no such thing

Love is seen
In natural scene
In human behavior
And in national honor

The country is holy
We are holding opinion holly
We want congenial atmosphere
Where there shall be no fear