Born a Kuki, die a Kuki

Nehtinthang Haokip *

Over the misty hills of Joupi and far away;
Into the lush wilds of Gelnel-Janglenphai terror sway.
Doom knocks door to door; chickencoop to pigsty.
'Nagalim for Christ' was never one's ally.
Devil in NSCN-IM clothing clamped upon 'em _Quit Notice.
Plundered their farm-produces, torched their home-stead as they so pleases.
Tense dark clouds hovering the murky skyline;
As hapless hermits gawked, choking in agony.
Despair looms in never ending treading line;
As they flee, knowing not where, but to safety.
Weary and teary, trudging along the winding treacherous path.
Pebbles underneath their bare-feet couldn't prick the already half-death.
Sultry roving sun shut its oft piercing eyes.
Frozen at the ghastly sight.
Fountains of blood sprinkles, no bar, haywire.
Like plantains their bodies slashed,
And as gourd their tied limbs sliced.
Their heads chopped and in to the water deep, plonked!
As despised as kitchen trash, disposed.
Infants tossed in the air;
No loving hands to catch 'em.
Upon protruding spikes and machetes they land.
September 13, 1993 you took 104 innocent Kuki civilians away.
Three hostages survived with wounds utterly ugly.
A woebegone memento they couldn't simply stash away;
Memories of the deceased stings now like a disease.
O! Sons of the soil; ye, daughters of the land!
Songs of thy toil no more sung;
Thine merry-making no longer heard.
Born a Kuki, Die a Kuki; we'll always sing.