Thanks O' God!
We're the soil
Of our mother lands
Feeling proud of being
Really so lucky
If we die here
In service of native land
And fortunate enough
If we die abroad
Intermingling
Into the soil of globe
Death being
The ultimate truth
Shining might be the souls
Somewhere in original glow.
-Copyright © hrsharma ®2017
Ludhiana, Punjab, India.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I grasp your vision and see it in the light. A great piece.