A Thousand Heroes

Here flows the blood,

Shed upon the land of brave,

In a battle, you ought not,

To remember at all.

Here rests the sand that,

Have drenched in the blood of men,

Men who just didn't know,

To the fate that summoned them.

History, I fear, speaks only,

Of the ones, who smuggle victory

And there shall be no poem

For those biting dust.

The battle here was long,

Till rivers turned red, and when

The victor marched to the town,

Was no head, left to rule.

Some say he transformed,

I but, blame a thousand heroes,

Men, soldiers, and kings,

Dearly embracing death,

To have brought Ashoka

To lanes of peace.