Casualty
By | Pratishtha Khattar
1 Poem
I’m held at gunpoint
and asked to kneel before their ideals.
A carcass of dreams sits at my feet
while I smell cannon fired at the misfits.
I am a casualty of society,
a silent defeat.
But today I stand up to their eyes,
my bulletproof armor in vice.
I am the rainbow that brewed in storms.
Warriors evolve from victims,
and if they trigger the fight tonight,
I promise to bring them war.
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