Mother

This is not a "grook" but I kinda liked it and hence publishing it.
My friend Bhardwaj's brother Ramakanth (an Indian Army soldier) wrote it.

Tell Mother not to cry and weep;
My wounds that she sees are not so deep,
And tell her that I accomplished my task
And now its time for me to sleep.

They came from all sides; left and right,
I could hardly see them; it was a moonless night,
And then everything became bright,
It was within me 'My Mother' the burning light.

Mother you gave all joys of life to me,
And together all joys of life did we see,
But its another thing to be,
I'd rather choose to die than flee.

I had no bullets left; and so useless was my gun,
But there was still a lot to be done,
I know you would never want your son leave his land,
For life he should run?

So be it Mom; here I lie dead,
But for years to come it shall be said,
That no enemy on our land;
Shall ever tread.