Treasure Island

Anupama Anpat

(London)

Point of No Return


Bullets shot from every direction,
can’t dropp guard for tiniest of fraction.
Fighter planes roar overhead,
rivers flow crimson red.


So many soldiers fell,
a picture of chaos and hell.
Life dances a ghastly jive,
in pool of death, men dive.


Laying down lives for nation’s pride,
a duty that is testing and bona-fide.
Makes for true calling of a hero,
fighting in perils and ground zero.


Adorning medals of honour on the chest,
bears scars and wounds with equal zest,
with their lives, nation’s debt they paid,
to comrades, tearful farewell they bade.


The trench becomes the grave,
no lasting memory to save,
holding fort till the last breath,
sinking into fatality’s depth.


War is fought for reasons right or wrong,
leaves behind lives that forever mourn.
In time, the warfare may get adjourned
but for the fallen, it is a point of no return.

Submitted: Wednesday, November 09, 2011

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