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History carves it's name,

Without any tempt for fame.

The masses were biting on their love,

But to engrave history this wasn't enough.

While our comfort seemed so uncomfortable for us,

Destruction had already got itself seated in the bus.

Every moment of advancement was going to turn evil and grieved,

And back in the country side the masses still awaited a couple treat.

History is always marked by silence followed by outspoken locutioon,

So it followed the footsteps in accordance.

Who could answer the uncomfortable vibes from within,

Asking to step back,

But destiny had put over it's back-

To drive it towards the hollow shack.

A noise loud enough to disturb the ambience,

Would part away the prevailing silence.

Destruction had stepped out of the bus,

Landing at the path,

It's dear pal agony had come to assist it.

The chaos around had this agony evolved within

And this agony had destroyed the aspirations being carried there in.

Some lost a shadow, some lost the source of meadow,

And it was loss all prevailing.

But the fools were unaware of the fact-

Losses not only result in failing,

But in reference to our Jawans-

This loss illustrates them as ever hailing.

You converted them from Men to Martyrs

And lead them to a designation so high,

Where your evil souls fail to fly.

Killing a handful you curbed humanity,

However it's just their generosity-

As your existence is their charity.

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