Rakhshanda Jalil 
Do you smell that?
That acrid stench of burning dreams
The coppery, sickly sweet smell of blood
The fetid reek of a decaying society.
Do you hear that?
The faint but persistent knell
The rattling sigh of a dying nation
The screams of the future being trampled upon.
Do you feel that?
The cold tendrils of fear
The oppressive heat of hatred
A nation being forged in the anvil of vitriol.
Do you see that?
As it gets painted into a new hue
Gone are the blues, the greens or even the whites of peace
As red seeps into saffron, a macabre rendition of a masterpiece.
Shashank Shekhar is an editorial content writer for a global marketing communication firm.
Featured image credit: Matt Artz/Unsplash