Ruins and ruins 
Is all I see,
officers, brothers,
enemies and friends alike.
Who did we die for ?
The more i watch.
The more i realize.
Petty issues got dragged too far
and here i stand in a WAR

Cries and shrieks
the bombed bridge creaks
Every bullet for every ounce of flesh speaks,
I just hit the target.
didn’t differ enemy or friend i bet
If any how this all could get better
you would not be reading the silence of a martyr.

My old gun is smoked and burning
I lost another brother round that turning.
Heard him fall down that aisle.
Oh,how i just want to tell him
That i could do nothing for him
if i would, the next bullet would be waiting for me.

And all i feel is sorrow and regret
thats how a martyr’s life ends
garland twice a year on the grave.
thats how they salute the brave
how i wish i could tell my mother “I am here”
if only ! then you wouldn’t be reading the silence of a martyr.

Wounds have now stopped to pain,
oh lord ! how much i wish the rain!
to splutter on my lips.
And drain it all away.
the rivers of blood
to the Holy Gange.

the medals still shine
through the drops of tear and rent.
they fake a smile in vain
but i know they are dying in pain.
there is no victory or defeat.
Just red and dead on the street.

right or wrong is left behind
it isn’t about righteousness at all
its only about those who fall
you cant survive a war,
cause even if you get enough far.
it will haunt you all your life.
at the end of the day
battlefield is painted red in colour.
this is why , you are reading the silence of a martyr.

Posted from WordPress for Android by Mayank Mishra (mayank.mishra@stu.upes.ac.in)