In the heart of Bharat, where hopes once soared high,
Now shadows deepen, and dreams wither and die.
Voices of millions, in whispers they speak,
Of promises broken, of futures so bleak.

Caste lines drawn deep, in soil and in soul,
Splitting our nation, exacting a toll.
In villages silent, where laborers toil,
The weight of injustice seeps into the soil.

Scavengers in shadows, in gutters they tread,
The stench of neglect, where dignity's dead.
Freedom's a whisper, silenced and chained,
Where speaking the truth means being arraigned.

The prices soar high, while incomes crawl low,
In fields of despair, no harvests to show.
Women in protests, their voices so clear,
Yet justice is distant, and solace austere.

Elections approach, with banners and cheer,
But commoners wonder, will change ever near?
For promises echo, as loud as a drum,
Yet in the end, it's the people who succumb.

Oh leaders, oh voices, who claim to defend,
Remember the commoner, the hands that extend.
For in your ascent, in the power you crave,
Don't forget the masses, the land you must save.

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