Home They Brought The Warrior Dead... Poem by Raj Barath

Life’s pivoted on a thorn amidst flames
With eeriness that none tames.
It’s the duel of countries
Deterring the existing pleasantries.
Their soul sways between life & death
Sparing only their valour, to bequeath.
A few tricky jackals on tree tops,
Pompous commanders with many props,
A few panthers ambushing
And a few hares relishing.
The aura is difficult to introspect
With their emotions difficult to inspect.
They are like chickens in a vulture’s range.
These warriors’ homes are well lit
With their glory that’s difficult to forfeit,
Their dads suffocate in the midst of pride
With vanity for grooming a child,
Who’s a lion in the battle
Unlike the commons who are brittle.
Their moms contemplate their illusion
That’s valorously hanging on the wall
Atop a decrepit clock
Pulsating like their heart
Which would stop
And the blood in their veins would clot.
Hoping for the ‘D’ day of their return
Their lives are as hostile as in Saturn.
Their homes are polarized
With their parents hypnotized.
But at the battle ground the dusk dawned,
For the deceased the rest mourned.

Home they brought the warrior
dead! ! !