The tenth day dawns with sorrow’s embrace,
As Bhishma, the pillar, must finally face.
With arrows I strike, under Krishna’s command,
A grandson’s love, a warrior’s hand.
The invincible falls, though not to death,
He lies on a bed of arrows, holding his breath.
My heart aches, but my duty remains,
For the path of dharma knows no chains.
Bhishma’s eyes, though filled with love,
Speak of peace, in the heavens above.
He blesses us all, even as he falls,
And the war continues, as destiny calls.
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Scars Of An Archer: A Poetic Rendition✅
PoetryCover Credits:@Sparkle012m Unending glory, Undying fame Unmatched was he, Unwavering his aim 'Savyasachi' Shooting swiftly using two Hands Subdued many Unconquerable Lands 'Dhananjaya', forged by Outer Conquest 'Vijaya', moulded by his inner quest '...
