A bloody elbow discarded from its heart
Roped in green soldier robe
Lay limp in litharge*
Hand that guarded the crown of nation
That fought and loved
That trembled yet thurled* (evil men)
Its neurons now run rife while brain yearns a vengeful strife.
A woundless pains shouts aloud (from bereaved crowd)
To wake them up awaiting the shroud
His pupil (of eye) shrinks to death
His heartstring stammering to utter life
His body torn but his courage squealed
To tear into demons
For whom even Hell is sealed.
His dreams now shut in eyes
His putrid body now craves the grave
His livid face now haunts his kin
What shame if his sacrifice goes in din?!
* Litharge- fumes of bomb and gases
*Thurled – thwarted and hurled