The melancholy beastliness of the bustle in the modest morning chariot
Adoring a war stained hue, the chariots line up one behind the other
Warriors hoard up, fill in with purpose, some sure, many unsure
Yet the purpose stands strong, foreheads all warm with dreams, aspirations
A future they see, only time and these others, stand in between
Today's war is different, muscles to machines, swords to laptops and armor to suit
This journey is long and swayed, for a few mighty will pull through
Others will find solace in the crevices and nooks, hurt but content
I do not pray for those with strength, not muscles I talk of
Its the men and women who get crushed on the journey
The dreams that now only whisper at night, the hopes dead
No mercy, no light, for them I pray may you be strong and wise
This is not a battle but a war in sight, hold on, measure the blows
Take it deep inside, the light ain't too far, the dawn approaches
Hold on, be strong, the beast will soon fall with plight, and then,
You ride on that chariot, each day, the color will strike of life,
You are a survivor, a winner and a believer in life.
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