Sacred Battlefield Poem by ashok jadhav

Upon this hallowed field where echoes stay,
The dust remembers vows in crimson sealed;
Here faith and fury met in mortal fray,
And human hearts were bared, not sword nor shield.
The ground, once torn by cries of grief and might,
Now breathes a silence heavy, deep, and wise;
Each fallen step still wrestles wrong and right,
Each star above keeps watch with solemn eyes.
No victor crowns this earth with idle pride,
For loss and love lie equal in the soil;
The sacredness is born where souls have died,
Transfigured pain outlasting blood and toil.
O battlefield, thou altar of our past,
Teach peace to those who walk thy bounds at last.