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Wednesday, December 9, 2015

The curse of a warrior...

Moral integrity is on a defence 
When a saint is in a battleground 
Krishna suggests to follow the duty
And that was the birth of philosophy

With no quivers or armours you'll be alone
Learn the art to turn an arrow into a flower
For a bud blossoms with myriad colours 
Sapping into the juices of the mother earth

No conch Shell, no ammunition or cover
When the conscience attacks your soul
Just remember a response is more resilient 
When the bullet of words are etched in a promise

There is no war when the skin is reversed
The mirror holds the truth for every single breath
The fight is between the 'I' and the 'me'
Tossing between the saint and the warrior.

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