An age of slavery began.
The beauty of my land comes to an abrubt end.
Freedom, freedom, cried my land of chilling pain.
But all pain went in vain.
A dream of freedom in eyes of nation.
They fight for ememy's depletion.
Soon whole Vale awakened.
And once again the story of freedom evoked.
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YOU ARE READING
BURNING PARADISE.
PoetryListen to the story of my valley. Where saints preached religion daily. A disputed land on the top of the map. With elegant green hail in the nature's Lap.
