A Soldier's Soul
Oh how I long,
To sleep gleeful a night.
In the search of a song,
Which will kill my ceaseless fright.
Days bleed dry, evenings connive.
Neither the rhythm, nor the beats thrive.
Paralysed I lay in the limelight,
when the hefty words arrive.
Pouring in the silence of nights,
The echt battles, materialise.
-Aman Batra
Please tag me if you copy my work
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