War-hero

Tell me, where am I going,
dressed in my uniform and cap?
Why am I in this coffin,
instead of my mother's lap?

You died for your country,
of you we're so proud.
You're envied by all, my son,
though you be draped in a shroud.

I wish I was alive again,
to taste the wind and rain.
I never wanted the scourge of war,
forever my soul it'll stain.

Do not be blasphemous,
rest in peace, dear son.
We're proud of your deeds,
and the war is now won.

You took away from me my life,
for your own selfish ends.
You care not for what I suffered,
you parted me from my friends.

Don't accuse your father thus,
just be proud that you're dead.
Dear son, your bravery will be remembered,
forever by the stone at your grave's head.

~Rachit~