Indrajit comforted his father,
And went for sortie another.
His rain of arrows killed many,
And wounded countless many.

Finally he sent the serpent dart,
Ram and Lakshman on that spot,
Fell down unconscious once again,
There was no chance of regain.

Under doctor’s advice to revive,
And help them all to survive,
Herbs in Himalayas that grew
Hanuman, to get them, flew.

How to identify them, he knew not?
So the entire mountain, he brought.
The magic herb played its trick,
And the princes alive came back.

Indrajit, hid in a remote place,
To perform a tantric sacrifice,
By this to get more powers,
Which would kill the two brothers.

But Lakshman used Indra-astra spell
By this arrow, the Indrajit’s head fell.
To Ravan, it was another rude shock,
For help, he was unsure, where to knock.

Ravan had full faith in his prowess,
And still on the hope of his success,
Under the cover of the boons he got,
His strong force, weapons and the lot.

He lost his commanders, soldiers,
His close associates, and brothers,
And was left with no option,
But “do or die” in confrontation.

Arrows to the left,
Arrows to the right,
Flew from all sides,
Killing many, both sides.

Ram, Lakshman and others,
Chopped his limbs like feathers,
But they grew again and again,
He became a full demon again.

Brahmaastra finally Ram sent,
That pierced his chest and went,
With that his life had gone,
His wife Mandodari to mourn.

As Ravan’s faithful lady
She fell o’er his body
Lamented on her helpless state,
The merciless work of her ill-fate.