THE WARRIOR

THE WARRIOR

The first bullet made me slow,

The second bullet hit me inches below,

The third bullet made my heart hollow,

And the last bullet made my anger grow,

But till my last breathe with the gun,

I made the enemies run,

Oh god! Let me survive,

I promised to return within fifty nights,

Help my friends, who are still alive,

Still hopeless after these fatal fights,

Till their death they fought hard,

Don’t put them in forgotten graveyard,

We are the hurricane lamps that glow,

Despite the imprisoning limitations,

During wild winds, rains and heavy snow,

We extract peace in all bad situations,

We always die for a greater cause,

Still, we lie in the battle fields without any gauze,

We have no more wars to fight,

But have candles of my friend’s name to enlighten,

Though bodies dwindled and disappeared yet souls unite,

After vain and profitless but glorious tradition,

-KISHOR JANGDA