Beneath the surface, danger lurks,
In the land of Afghanistan, where shadows murk
A place of beauty marred by strife,
Where the surface gives and takes life.
The rivers flow, bringing life anew,
But tread carefully on this delicate view
For beneath the surface lies a dark secret,
Of violence and war, leaving hearts in regret.
The Pharaoh Nile, a symbol of life,
But in its depths lies a blade, sharp as a knife
Unleashing the wrath of those who seek power,
Leaving behind a desolate flower.
Heal me, use me, the land cries out,
Or watch as others take without a doubt
The riches that lie within my soul,
Leaving you with nothing but an empty bowl.
You are blessed, the chosen one,
To reside in a land where rivers run
Take heed of the gift that lies at your feet,
Before it's too late, before it's complete.
The founts that spring forth, sweet and pure,
Are a treasure to cherish, to ensure
That future generations will look back with pride,
On the land where life and death collide.
Do not let greed cloud your vision,
Or else you'll face the harsh decision
Of watching as others claim your birthright,
Leaving you with nothing but a bitter blight.
So listen carefully, to the cries of the land,
For it holds the key to a future so grand
Use its gifts wisely, with love and care,
And watch as a paradise blooms, fair and rare.
The surface gives you life, but beneath lies death,
Afghanistan's story, filled with every breath
Of those who fight for a better tomorrow,
In a land filled with joy and sorrow.
Take this warning to heart, and heed its call,
Before the land itself begins to fall
For the surface may give, but below lies despair,
A reminder that life is fragile, handle with care.
So stand tall, embrace the beauty that surrounds,
And let the love of the land resound
For you are the chosen one, the guardian true,
Of a land so precious, so pure and so blue.
Kabul, March 23, 2017
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