Cadet Sub NCO. Krishna Kant
Class-12th, RIMC
Voices seem dark of the battered joy, The double edged falchion, in this world of toys. Here, beneath the silence, the unforgiven word, Bullets and blood, does seem so absurd?
Class-12th, RIMC
Voices seem dark of the battered joy, The double edged falchion, in this world of toys. Here, beneath the silence, the unforgiven word, Bullets and blood, does seem so absurd?
Never believed in the words of wisdom, Free yet chained on the path of freedom.
Untold story of the silence of the bullet, Never-ending charm in the lyre of its ballet. Before the noise subsides, Insignia incinerated, in infatuation, does rise.
On the steps of altar. The soldier’s world, Merely provoked, in the name of faith; curled. In those eyes of fear, courage vehemently speaks, The golden grains of desert, where sun never sleeps. Pain and cries, hallucinations and views.
A battle in the land of toys, drenched in blood, bloody eyes eye. Like dry leaves, blown to be crunched. Under the heavy, feet of unconcerned. Beneath air, the noisy silence, To cross the boundary of heaven’s fence. Minds preoccupied in the enigma of desires. They shed blood. For worldly pleasures, you desire?
Cemented together with the bricks of wounds, Papered in mysteries, the evil boon. Foreseen myths, the labyrinth of wise. Conquered freedom, cremated won’t rise. The gun still battles, many a lives still to reclaim. With eyes wide shut, the nonchalant quietude to blame.
Untold story of the silence of the bullet, Never-ending charm in the lyre of its ballet. Before the noise subsides, Insignia incinerated, in infatuation, does rise.
On the steps of altar. The soldier’s world, Merely provoked, in the name of faith; curled. In those eyes of fear, courage vehemently speaks, The golden grains of desert, where sun never sleeps. Pain and cries, hallucinations and views.
A battle in the land of toys, drenched in blood, bloody eyes eye. Like dry leaves, blown to be crunched. Under the heavy, feet of unconcerned. Beneath air, the noisy silence, To cross the boundary of heaven’s fence. Minds preoccupied in the enigma of desires. They shed blood. For worldly pleasures, you desire?
Cemented together with the bricks of wounds, Papered in mysteries, the evil boon. Foreseen myths, the labyrinth of wise. Conquered freedom, cremated won’t rise. The gun still battles, many a lives still to reclaim. With eyes wide shut, the nonchalant quietude to blame.
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