Widow Of Pride

Far, far in the glaciers astound

Walking on the white, snowy ground,

His heavy, bulky attire shone

The pride of his country, that he'd worn.

Breathing with a cautious vigil

upon his steady, living bastion,

Arms clinging to the massive shoulders,

He trudged up and down the assigned region.

The cold, sharp waves slapped hard on his coarse face;

Yet, alert stood he, unperturbed of the wind's trace,

With his eagle-eyes static, fixed upon the limitless lands,

That is cradled in his country's tenacious hands.

His services for the homeland called for in the day or night,

Amidst monstrous mountains where the sun seldom shone bright,

And he went on battling the enemies with all his might,

Seething angst to relieve his motherland from its sorry plight.

Oblivious to hunger, oblivious to thirst,

Oblivious to blood-oozing gashes, all gory and worse,

He dwelt upon his inner vigour to cross the safety wall

Ignorant of the grave dangers that may him befall.

When stood there a child and weeping, helpless man

Caught in the clutches of the enemy's bloody hand,

A single bullet swept through the undeterred firearm

That clung to his trained hands with a royal charm.

That was the proud man, son of the beloved Mother,

Bowing before whom she sought him her significant other.

Her heart swelled, unable to hide that glimpsing pride,

To be named the 'missus' of a soldier, far and wide.

And one fine day landed he in a long, sealed casket

The Tri-color wrapped graciously announcing his dismal death;

The world lauded him; a brave son of the Mother,

Who rescued her timid Children from those sadistic 'Others'.

Bruised, hit, tortured, tormented beyond thought

He smiled through the agony for the lone chance his life brought;

Brave, valiant soldiers were the only salvation

Of this once prosperous country, now a terror-struck nation.

The lady remained rigid by the mighty coffin's side

Harbouring in her heart the memories of a vivid velvety night

When her man left with a promise of waking to a glorious morn

With the country rejoicing the harmony that was to be reborn.

Now the nation breathes in peace

Now his breath is fully ceased

Now she mourns his death in quiet

Now she's a widow clad in white.