RM (11-05-1985 / Mumbai, India)

The Soldier

The wind blows
Through my hairs
Grown through years of struggle
It brings message
From my soil
Oh! Listen
The whisper in my ears
“Oh! Child don’t cry”.
Soothing my wounds
It washes off all my
Revenge, anguish and pain
The rain comes too
Sprinkling my face
Wiping the inhuman dirt
It wipes my sweat
That my chained hands
Have failed to do
Then the rays come
To fill my eyes
And dry my tears
My soil has sent them all
Just then a foreign bird
Sits on the prison bars
It asks, “Who are you? ”
So cruelly chained and beaten?
“Oh! Poor man what wrong have you done? ”
“I am a soldier
And I die for my soil”,
My last breath says….

User Rating: 5,0 / 5 ( 3 votes ) 4

Comments (4)

the helplessness and sacrifice and the pain and sufferng of the soldier.....very intersting to read
This is a beautiful poem, Roopa... Lee
Roopa, this is a very thoughtful poem that I compare to Stephen Crane's 'Do Not Weep Maiden for War is Kind.'
A very touching poem. Your compassion becomes you Regards, Sandra Fowler