Battles, Unsung

By Shefali

We’re known for fighting wars,

And battle scars engraved.

We’re celebrated for our valour,

And patriotism nonpareil.

We’re awarded for saving lives,

till our last breaths.

Oh, but delve a little deeper,

There’s so much more to tell.

We also fight a war, in our hearts, every day,

When we all dress in white,

For a friend we laughed with, yesterday.

Not a day goes by,

when our flag isn’t stained crimson,

Not a day goes by,

When we don’t mourn another brave son.

But since forever, till now,

They remain, the battles, unsung.

We too feel perfervid, for families,

Yours and mine.

Sometimes, too eager to return,

To the home, we left behind.

A son’s first cry, first smile,

First class, first fight,

So many moments lost, for which,

We too covet and yearn.

But since forever, till now,

They remain, the battles, unsung.

In the end though,

I talk about me,

About what I’ve lost and gained,

about all the pressure and strain,

about hardships we never claimed.

A sense of loss, of defeat, of remorse,

Of fear, of courage, of melancholy of sorts.

Questioning the gratuitous wars,

and the blind faith in warlords.

Accepting the highs and lows,

the fair and the foul in the mortal souls.

For we live our chosen destiny,

every day our flag is flung.

It’s true,

These small significant wars,

Are the battles, unsung.

By Shefali