Saturday, 10 December 2011

The Warman's Account




I can see the young blood flowing down the stream
Tried hard to accomplish his task and the pride to redeem
He charged down with his gun to prove himself the braver
But, a shot of bullet stopped it all and his Eyes were left open forever
I heard the vultures shrieking on till all their throats were hoarse
As if they were the dear ones of the dead gathering to remorse
I can hear the wireless so loud , as the seniors give their call
The earth which was the mother's lap , has turned into a deathbed for all
I can feel the warmth in the air mixed with formal attire
These scenes infront of my eyes resemble a dreadful sattire
Some hints of jokes from some officials , furnished and chambered
For , the young have faught and will do so and hence will be remembered
Lifeless women have forgotten their poor husbands face
These men , were surviving a Golgotha for merely hundred days
I know not now , which side will lose , and who will make the hay
I will account you of that fact , if I live on till that day

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