Blood Red!

There was a great thunderstorm, it poured for days at end...
And then the floods came, they wiped off all semblance of a civilization
Of a civilization, that was a jewel on the face of this earth
And now all lay rotting...dying...decaying

It all began with the great hordes who gathered onto the streets
Death to the shah, they bellowed...Down with the great Satan...
And in the majestic imposing palace ,the divine one lay
Hiding, Cowering, Behind the gilded throne

And then one day, God's shadow on earth fled
Taking with him, his pride, his prestige and his power
And in the streets, a sea of black turbans flowedRejoicing...Celebrating....The fall of the dictator
That day was a chilly day, when the exiled son returned...
Millions thronged the tarmac for a glimpse of he who had disposed of the mighty

He, who was believed to be none other than the prophet of the age
He, who would liberate the tainted souls of his brethren...
Yet, he was but a mere mortal...Power blinded him
He sought more power, nothing could quench his thirst for the absolute

And his own people, became mere pawns in his quest
One sacrificed here, another martyred there...All in the name of a great revolution...
And then one day, a scheming neighbour attacked...Sending shockwaves through these proud yet desolate lands
And the turbaned cleric, once again screamed
Sacrifice all... For the cause of the revolution

Millions perished in this lost cause...Some died a brave death, battling the enemy
Others died a pitiful death...
blown apart as they cleared the way
For the other glorious would-be martyrs to attain paradise

These soldiers of revolution were armed with plastic keys
They had been told, these were the keys to heaven
They would open the gates of paradise
Where the martyred would forever stay...

Soon, the soil became red in colour
Rivers of blood flowed in this land sacred
The madmen yelled...'The Revolution demands Sacrifice'
And millions more were lost...

And then one day, when the rivers of blood finally subsided
It left behind a decrepit, decaying, rotting corpse of a nation...
Yet the turbaned atop the pulpits bellowed The Revolution demands sacrifices....
The Revolution demands Martyrs....