Lalit Shastri

The past, a shadow of memories,
Lengthens with passing days,
Etched deep within the weary hearts,
Where time’s tapestry forever sways.

The veterans wait at Twilight hour,
A silent vigil they faithfully keep,
With weathered hands and souls of steel,
In memories profound, they softly weep.

As the sun surrenders to the night,
Stars emerge with twinkling grace,
Their thoughts drift back to battles fought,
Each line etched on their weathered face.

The echoes of war, a haunting score,
Resound through their fragile frame,
Yet, through the pain and sacrifice,
Their courage burns, an eternal flame.

Time so stealthily takes away,
The vivid hues of battles fought,
As memories fade into the mist,
They find solace in dreams, dearly sought.

Into the arms of sleep, they surrender,
A respite from the shadows’ might,
When darkness veils the world in hush,
They find solace in dreams, so bright.

In dreams, they walk on hallowed ground,
With comrades lost but not forgot,
The echoes of their youthful days,
A symphony within their thoughts.

So, let the night embrace them gently,
As they lay their burdens down to rest,
For in the realm of dreams, they find,
A sanctuary, where their spirits crest.

When it gets real dark, my friend,
Remember their sacrifice and might,
Their legacy, a beacon of hope,
Guiding us through the darkest night.

In their stories and their pain,
We glimpse the cost of freedom’s fight,
May their memories forever live on,
Our hearts cherish their valor bright.