A nation that sleeps serene,
Unburdened by persisting turmoil;
For the burden lies unseen,
On the knights that guard our soil.
.
Serving the country selflessly,
Miles away from their own;
It is seldom that they get to see,
In only dreams they recall their homes.
.
But that dream couldn’t be true,
For the forty-four bravehearts;
Their reunion was yet due,
When their voyage was broken apart.
.
Unarmed, en route their nativity,
Mercilessly drenched in fire;
Their deaths don’t seek your pity,
Don’t need your whims and satire.
.
What they need is our hands united,
Disregarding faith, caste and region;
It is time to stay undivided,
For terror has no religion.
.
It is time to subside our fear,
And turn the defensive page;
To make the global corners hear,
Trebbles of the Indian rage.
.
Let’s face the faces of terror,
With the advocates and the pawns;
It isn’t time to show them a mirror,
It is the advent of a new dawn.
.
Those tyrants full of cowardice,
Let’s grab them by their heads;
And Look straight into their eyes,
And narrate a truth undead-
.
“If you think you can stand tall,
By daring to hurt even one;
Let us make you recall,
Behind him stand a billion.”