A peaceful june day
Water sparkling with sunlight
A gathering of hundreds
Faces calm and bright
A joyous celebration
Turned to a wretched strife
Men, women, children, and elderly
A loss of precious, innocent life
Golden light illuminating the air
And marble stained in red
A place of peace and worship
Turned into a deathbed
An army of soldiers against the innocent
A battalion against young kin
Rows of bodies dead
Pale heaps of skin
A clear message from the queen
To show them their place
But it was the sikhs of great bravery
Empowered by the guru’s embrace
Fighting ever so valiantly
To an oppression that tried to destroy
“You cannot kill our spirits”
No matter how many troops you deploy
An attempt to vanish an identity
A genocide repeating history
A clash of ideologies
Two thoughts ever so contradictory
So it was not mindless killing
A message was being sent
“You’re up against a nation
In which you are merely two percent”
But what tyrants seem not to understand
Is that killing us does not rid
The blood of our brothers spilled
And forgetting we forbid
The more you kill us
The more we grow
The more you silence our voices
The louder they will go