Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
May 2017
Captain! Our soldiers have deceased on the battleground.
Young youths! Yes, they were young boys!
Their motionless figure lies on the ground.
Crimson immortal stream shall never end flowing.
Captain! They inhaled their ultimate breath,
But it was a breath that packed their blood with fright.
Several lack arms and limbs;
Some are fragmented by showers of bullet;
While others disintegrated into pieces.
But don’t worry,
For I directed a message to the Command center.
They will ship a fresh division of troops…
Rohan Nath
Written by
Rohan Nath  18/M/India
(18/M/India)   
399
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems