Fall

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/ode to the Indian revolutionary, Bhagat Singh/

the tree undresses itself, slowly 
and prepares to wear a yellow turban 

The wind whispers to the tree 
that the turban is 
of a patriot from Hindostan, 
the land of spices.

The turban, belonged to an atheist; 
he found freedom in a prison and joy in death.

the wind sings aloud the praises of a man whose bride was freedom;
Just that he never married her 

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