STORYMIRROR

Bullets Are ...

Bullets Are ...

1 min
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No easy breathe

After death,

My body is buried feet under;

The place is safe here.

 

I was laid

When passing through raid prone area.

One bullet took my life away.

I was declared saying, "he has passed away."

 

What sort of madness is this?

How many more sacrifices?

The families may be waiting for the arrival.

But I was not to reach...

 

I am given the state of honour

Buried with tears and words for

Showing so much of a courage.

Words of praises written clearly on the page.

 

I find total change in the scene.

It is hostility from the neighbouring nation.

How much more shall be dying?

In the meanwhile, where the bullets are still flying.


साहित्याला गुण द्या
लॉग इन

More english poem from Hasmukh Amathalal