Dawn of Irony Is it hope or sun Rising over the silent land? No — just fire in the sky, Freedom delivered by a distant hand. The horizon glows in crimson light, Not from peace but from war’s art. A sunrise made by thunder, Painted across a trembling heart. Smoke curls like a question mark, Hovering above broken dreams. Some call it rescue, some call it powe Truth rarely shines as it seems. From far away, the savior speaks, With promises wrapped in flame. A bomb becomes diplomacy, And peace arrives in war’s name. Tell me, watching that burning dawn Is it hope the sky has spun? Or just another morning Under the shadow of Uncle Sam’s sun. #கவிதை