King Porus: The First Voice Of Freedom Poem by Rajendra Prasad Meena Jaipur India

Long ago, beside a river wide and bright,
There lived a king who loved what was right.
The land was green, the people were free,
And dreams were calm like the open sea.

The river flowed with a gentle song,
Teaching patience as it moved along.
Near its banks, strong and fair,
Stood King Porus with steady care.

He was not proud, he did not boast,
He spoke with truth, not noise or boast.
Like the deep and peaceful sea,
His strength was calm for all to see.

From distant lands across blue seas,
Came travelers with old stories.
Greek writers spoke in careful tone,
Of far-off kings and lands they'd known.

They told of roads and battles past,
Of armies moving strong and fast.
But they also wrote, with honest pen,
Of brave hearts stronger than armed men.

Dark clouds gathered, the rain came down,
The river rose with a silver sound.
Quiet plans were made at night,
But courage still stood in the light.

King Porus stood like a rocky shore,
Where waves may strike but fail once more.
No storm could move his steady stand,
For he stood for people and the land.

Drums rolled low, the ground did shake,
Like ocean storms the winds can make.
The day was long, the test was true,
Yet duty stayed and courage grew.

Though wounded, tired, and worn with pain,
His brave heart did not complain.
Like the sea in wind and rain,
It stays deep, strong, and the same.

Ancient books from lands afar
Spoke of this king like a guiding star.
They did not praise just swords or might,
But dignity and fearless right.

Stories say the hours moved slow,
Like winding rivers that gently flow.
Loss and sorrow touched the day,
Yet hope refused to fade away.

For true leaders think beyond their crown,
They lift their people, not push them down.
They think of homes, of farms, of peace,
Of every child whose dreams increase.

In gentle tales told soft and clear,
The king chose love instead of fear.
Like a leaf upon the flowing stream,
He trusted time, he trusted the dream.

The river moved toward the open sea,
Where all things meet peacefully.
Rivers know, and oceans too,
That brave hearts guide the future through.

Time passed on like tide and sand,
New hands rose to guard the land.
Yet one brave voice did not grow weak,
It lived in stories the wise still speak.

Children, remember this simple truth:
Real strength lives in calm, not brute.
Being brave means standing right,
Even in the darkest night.

You do not need to rule the sea,
To be kind, strong, and truly free.
Stand like the shore, steady and true,
Let storms pass by; they cannot move you.

Some heroes wear no shining crown,
Yet their courage will never drown.
Like the sea—so deep and wide—
Their values stand through every tide.

And so this poem gently ends,
But its lesson always bends:
A land stays safe, a future free,
When hearts stand firm—like the sea.

By Rajendra Prasad Meena Jaipur India