Leading from the front, with an iron hand
Pushing them toward the final stand,
Facing the imminent prospect of death,
He said, “Fight we shall until our last breath”.
Onward marched the final battalion,
The general, on his mighty stallion,
As they trudged through the snow
They wondered, “Will we ever see our children grow?”
Despite being outnumbered ten to one,
Their prowess and skill were second to none.
Greeted with showers of arrows and spears,
They pushed back the enemy and suppressed their fears.
Cries of exultation ran through the ranks,
As they begun to form the dreaded phalanx.
With locked shields and spears they cut through the enemy horde,
Putting every single soldier to the sword.
Amidst these flowing rivers of blood and sweat,
Their leader took his last breath.
As his bloodied face hit the ground,
The last thing he heard was victories sound.
– R. Abhishek
Production engineering: Batch of 2020