Every country produces it sons,
Expecting each of them to be responsible and patriotic in the long run.
Every motherland is like an asset too close to heart,
Its safety is at the top of its soldier's chart.
These people are not carrying any ordinary thought,
They prioritise their country and then their life in each war they have fought.
A soldier maintains discipline throughout his life,
It helps him in walking on a path which is sharp like a knife.
He distances his family when he prepares for the battle,
Thinking in mind that this is the last one to settle.
And the battlefield challenges his bravery everytime,
His blood is spit in the war as it costs nothing but a dime.
He hates but cuts every opponent's pulse,
Around him cloud of wrath engulfs.
Sometimes he is victorious and sometimes nailed,
Dying for the country's sake is a duty where he never failed.
He sings songs of glory when he is down with courage,
That is how he seeks power from that glorified mirage.
For all these great deeds of a soldier,
For inspiring the entire nation to be fearless and become bolder,
Are his acts of chauvinism properly regarded?
Is the fallen hero's carriage sufficiently barded?
His family may remain in despair forever,
That too for his sacrificing and heroic endeavour.
Still the land would be proud mother of such sons,
In this age of hatred, swords and guns.
And the soldier's soul will always be content,
To live and die for the nation's past, future and present.
Lets swallow this truth and lets not forget this great son,
He who for us refused to have a dream of his own.
Expecting each of them to be responsible and patriotic in the long run.
Every motherland is like an asset too close to heart,
Its safety is at the top of its soldier's chart.
These people are not carrying any ordinary thought,
They prioritise their country and then their life in each war they have fought.
A soldier maintains discipline throughout his life,
It helps him in walking on a path which is sharp like a knife.
He distances his family when he prepares for the battle,
Thinking in mind that this is the last one to settle.
And the battlefield challenges his bravery everytime,
His blood is spit in the war as it costs nothing but a dime.
He hates but cuts every opponent's pulse,
Around him cloud of wrath engulfs.
Sometimes he is victorious and sometimes nailed,
Dying for the country's sake is a duty where he never failed.
He sings songs of glory when he is down with courage,
That is how he seeks power from that glorified mirage.
For all these great deeds of a soldier,
For inspiring the entire nation to be fearless and become bolder,
Are his acts of chauvinism properly regarded?
Is the fallen hero's carriage sufficiently barded?
His family may remain in despair forever,
That too for his sacrificing and heroic endeavour.
Still the land would be proud mother of such sons,
In this age of hatred, swords and guns.
And the soldier's soul will always be content,
To live and die for the nation's past, future and present.
Lets swallow this truth and lets not forget this great son,
He who for us refused to have a dream of his own.