THE HERO

They waited like hungry vultures
For his brave body to fall
The hero  a victim of values
Truth, the cruelest knife of all

Mine, mine, mine they cried
As they tore the heart from its bed
Unmindful of the body's warmth
Or blood that coloured them red

Once proud, this handsome soldier
Though he wore no uniform
Stood steadfast against the tide
While deceit raged like a storm

The heart that they tear at now
Fragmented before he bled
This lonely hero, everyone's friend
Still alone when he fell dead.

~Siddharth Sanyal~