War Against Terrorism(W.A.T) poem

Where are my boots?
it is time to root them out,
where is my gun?
no one would be allowed to run..
my brothers,rise,rinse yourselves,
for the time is ripe
Clear your hearts,
time to cleanse our land of the ominous acts.
we must find them that brought sadness to us,
they that caused some of our brothers to a coerced sleep,
and brought sorrows to our souls, those who dampen our hard earn image in the presence of expartriates,our pride we had protected from ages..
We will march on,till we get everyone of them,it would not be easy because they would not be willing to leave our land,but we would not relent either till they are out


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