He was brought up, as a prince charming;
Every word, uttered by-could not be no;
If the sky was the heights, flew for conquering;
Always lived on Yes, no was no where to know.
He stormed the nation, as he was sent;
Always on the horizon of nation and mind;
Gave us love and hopes for life’s bent
And discipline, health, wealth, and strength, he fed.
Guilt, lethargy, despair and weakness, no where to seen-
Designed to fly high and high and higher;
Than with a daring bang and dream,
Flew back to his creator and became martyr.
Strong soul, in some far shining holy land,
Still, must be performing the best with his band.
FROM:
DR. YOGESH SHARMA
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem