The Martyr

Puffed with pride.
That's a quality for the present youth to imbibe.
Flowers I did not place
Candles I did not light
The fire of their bravery in my heart I did kindle
Forever will never dwindle.
The shining symbols on their raiment of pride
look humble when into the darkness of death they dive.
Not once does the tricolour pride flutter
As these men of matter never falter
Martyrs they would choose to be
than to flee or plead.
Life and death both a passion
Farsighted or focussed, its just one, the nation.