O maker of stars, of sky and sod, Shall I call you God? Or simply nod? Is Allah your name, or one of disguise? Or just another mask behind the skies? But I confess, I’m not impressed, Your silence leaves my soul distressed. They cry, they chant, they kneel and pray, Your faithful lost in disarray. You, who claim to see it all, Why let the innocent bleed and fall? When blood ran red and would not cease, When fire consumed our scrolls of peace, When Thangal gasped his final breath, And Tikendrajit marched to silent death, When Bijoykumars were torn from light, And Netaji vanished from the night, When Torei Kanjaobi died, And Langjing drowned with Patsoi beside, Where were you, O Lord of Lore, When were we dying by the score? When Heirangoi bridge was torn apart, When RMC was stripped of heart, When wildfires danced upon the hills, And floods came rushing, fierce and still, When Kangla's gates were breached by the Avas, When war drums echoed through our sagas, When Churanthaba shed hi...