My Father Is A Veteran Poem by Swamidhason Francis

MY FATHER IS A VETERAN

My father was not a war veteran if you say life is not a battle;
But war was it he fought after being conferred kingship too early,
As he became our region’s first grad; When the flower dearly
I placed on grave, on his memorial day, I remembered his battle.

And wondered why he became a victim of his victory in battle?
Was he like the great Yadistira with four Pandu brothers merely?
Was he felled by his laurels in eloquence, music and drama squarely?
Had he lost his logic and ethics in his aesthetics? Was it life’s battle?

That defeated him? Nay, he was too strong to be cowed down.
Like Arjun he was reluctant to fight, to hurt his beloved rivals in war.
He sat down listening to his charioteer, but forgot to take bow and arrow;

As he lost his beautiful mind in brooding and slipped his heart down;
And down he drowned in wine that stole the weal of his army as in war,
Thus he left for the grave, choosing to fight with the never-born tomorrow.