In Karbi Anglong, where hills connect,
A legend whispers wrecked unwrecked.
Sirwomu's tale, on voices fly,
Of a hunter's courage, down the blue sky.
Two monstrous birds, with wings of dread,
The Womu called, a haunting spread.
They stole the crops, and cast a blight,
Fear filled the days, and darkened night.
But Sirwomu rose, with heart aflame,
A sharpened spear, to end the game.
He tracked their nests, in mountains high,
A perilous climb, under the sky.
With steady hand, and piercing gaze,
He faced the Womu, in a fiery maze.
The battle raged, with feathers strewn,
The earth did tremble, beneath the moon.
Sirwomu fought, with strength and might,
His arrows sharp, a piercing light.
The Womu fell, with deafening cries,
And freedom bloomed, in the Karbi skies.
From then on, songs Sirwomu praise,
The hunter brave, in olden days.
A symbol strong, for all to see,
Of valour and fearless victory.
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