Over the snow-clad mountains, the coastal regions,
The rocky mountains, the horrendous jungles.
Securing the national borders with vigilant eyes,
Eyes that ferret to hunt down alien spies.
With strong hands & palms, barely any sweat,
They hold their rifles with a fierce threat.
They combat difficulties laying their heart on the line,
Holding their line, they never whine.
At times, they fall, at times they stall.
But never do they give up, coz they are the wall.
Barely catching a breath in the cold winter,
They warm themselves in a firewood splinter.
Jaded eyes with sleepless nights,
Embracing his rifle, to shower bullets in a trice.
Resting the country’s weight on his shoulders,
Those scars revealed the strength of a boulder.
Braving bullets to defy death in the arms,
His brothers shielded him until rearms.
He pacified saying, “It would be alright!”
Injecting morphine till he lost his fight.
At times he would feel the solitary,
Sneaking out a picture of his family.
A three-year-old child, with her tantrum cries,
A lovely wife with unspoken emotions in her eyes.
A pool of tears flood his jaded eyes,
He clinches them hard to imagine clear blue skies.
Coz he is a warrior, a stout-hearted,
Protecting his mother earth whole-hearted!
Do not go gentle into that good night,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light!