He is a soldier, but he doesn’t want to fight.
He wants to sell his weapons to buy her anklets instead.
He wants to melt his adrenaline for her adornment.
When fierce rage of winter bites his heart,
He desires for her soft bosoms for warmth.
He too wants to be a spectator of her beauty.
When his hands shake in an exchange of gunfire;
He remembers- how politicians laid their hands on her;
And how her beauty ravaged by powerful corporations.
He also remembers how greedy eyes turned her into half-dressed attires,
And now in some beauty contest she parades herself naked.
His blood flow reduces to nothing; and his cold soul torments.
He tacitly agrees to gun fire, and surrenders to death.
He forgets about the deafening sounds of guns.
He does not want to live anymore; he simply wants to die.