Monday, 26 September 2016

O' Son! When we will be at war....

                   O' Son! When we will be at war....

This great nation will be one
Religions will melt
Castes will bury in oblivion
Tedium of bulletins
Dismissed as mundane
Hailed and heard for cleaver explanations
The birds who had flown far away
The bond had weakened
Will care to ask
In mighty surge of eloquence
Hearts will stir with stirring times
Blood, in its truest colour, will boil
Scrupulous emotions will flow
Desire to live, urge to die, at par
O' Son! When we will be at war.

Bullets and missiles will sway and swirl
Intercepting the sky, whoosh, and whirl
Winds and breaths will hum 
          prophecy of our victory
Aiding the blood-thirsty arms
          unerring trajectory
And, there in the terrains
Some men will wait to be martyred
Lonely, angry,eyes blank, lips parched
They don't eat, drink water by pint
Amidst the hissing bullets, bawling tanks and roaring aircrafts
Each shot is counted, every bullet is accounted
When some mortals will play 
The game of blood at far
O' Son! When we will be at war.

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