On the day, Flags were stained

Heroes born not of a little worth

Fought hard with paper flown coloured symbols of peace

Sang to their hearts contentment sniffing quietly

Out here in triumph

In the rogue camp

Lies the bearers of the ‘AK' rounds

Trampled under foot

At the doorsteps of brutality

Is a broken humanity

Of raw taste of hatred

Muddled with the cup of false Patriotism

Still a shred of hope keeps us apart

On this day

National conscientiousness was born