Don't mind the lyrics

In a land where freedom was at ease,

A storm brewed with a foreign breeze.

The last of the great fought with fire,

Unaware of a dagger—a pointed desire.

The cannons roared, but all in vain,

Betrayed by kin, yet all the same.

Hands that once had sworn to defend,

Now traded a nation for a coward's end.

The rivers wept as the fields turned red,

And silence lingered where soldiers bled.

A crown replaced by a puppet of sin,

Once a general, now corrupted within.

Few mourned the king who lost the fight,

But all of Bengal knew it wasn't right.

And so began the reign of pain and sorrow,

Centuries of slavery—scarred and hollow.