A Warrior’s Salvation
All the Mortals or Muse may not wail
much for the death of the braves
than the loss of love and faith,
over the year, time’s witnessed.
Slaying own brother’s head,
An ancient attraction of barbaric bliss!
May be, for the greed of Crown,
Or, for some slices of land!
O, prodigal all!
Shatters like Ozymandias’ pride
into the sandy-oasis. Lasts nothing!
Knows Manu, Mommin and the Son of Man,
Knows all; and are deadly living for some unknown.
But the fight of the Lord of the flies;
Started once with stony arms, being
Continued, yet, with the latest science;
War has been modified!
So,
Bold the Jawan was, now a dead.
The coffin has been sent to his home,
Wrapped with the National Flag –
Martyr
announced!
Came home the Brave, last time, to marry
a nineteen years old girl
Who then just higher secondary passed.
And, the Gallant discovered his manhood,
first time, into his bridal bed.
Though, he chased the valleys and the lanes
with his fortified arms,
and triggered the last bullet of fire,
felt glorified to be a martyr.
And, the nation fulfilled his desire –
A salute yet!
All says; the ghost of the dead now-a-days,
Comes to his wife’s bed at late night.
Cries the young widow, afraid and unslept,
and seeks salvation of the soul to a voodoo.
O, some mantra has protected the girl!
But salvation?
Possible only when:
There’ll be no fence between the nations!!!
(Published in Poetcrit
29.2(July 2016): 141)