The Tune Of Triumph

Over the night of terror and frozen cold,

A son is fighting for his mother, so bold.

With his bravery utmost, the war comes to an end,

“We Won!!!”, he yells, but someone was preparing his deathbed.

There happens a sudden blast, and the captain fells to death,

He was true to the promise once he made, till the last breath,

Sleeps the brave heart, forever, embracing his mother’s arm,

He salutes for the last, and utters, “Vande  Mataram”.

Ends his story, but starts a new, inspiring millions to awake,

The night is leaving behind, into splendid daybreak!!

Adorned with a sky of freedom, so far away, a village is seen,

There is a paddy field, smiling, dazzling with the delight of green.

The fencing is seen afar, not so clear, but a blur..

A li’l boy is running there, with a flag, the tricolour,

Embracing the essence of independence, he looks at the sky,

There are some fighter planes, displaying the honour, with the flight,

Someone whispers into his ears, ‘O’ dear son, now it’s your term,

Thrilled with the voice, he salutes, and says, “Vande Mataram”.