From behind the bars
I stand behind those brazen bars,
Of a dungeon in those ill famed towers,
A soldier once, but now a captive here I stand,
With the living remains of my native land! !
Embedded in my memory lane
How that day did craft with several men!
How blood quenched blood and made faces pale…
This war, like a rolling wheel, is a resurrecting tale.
My friends and I did tread through several miles,
With oozing hearts, yet virile
How the eyes looked mirror to the weighted souls
Like each man a Hero, in his native role.
Friends looked dearer and acquaintances friends
The last hours of life….the lost hours shall mend,
Friends and foes together shall sleep
The Stars and the Graves, all shall weep! !
Soon foes and friends faced again,
All armoured like me….all like my own,
All men of real flesh and bones,
Some sons to fathers, and some fathers to sons,
But all like carcass, with hollow emotions,
We all had come at the regime's call,
Victory or defeat, but shall be mankind's fall,
Sorrow being born of joy and joy from sorrow.
This night shall revel but it shall be day tomorrow…
It is the death and darkness, a battle's either sides! !
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Comments about this poem (From behind the bars by ritwika raha )
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(28 November 1757 – 12 August 1827)
(27 October 1914 – 9 November 1953)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(31 October 1795 – 23 February 1821)
Harivansh Rai Bachchan
(27 November 1907 – 18 January 2003)
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