We have all been reading a story since January 1 of this year. And that journey ends next week. Due to some copyright issues and other considerations, the rest of the novel will not be posted from next week onwards. I apologise for this inconvenience. If this story ever gets published, you will all be a part of it. This story is dedicated to you all, me fellow Sinister. Don't forget to tune in next week to read the final part of the story. Happy Weekend! Enjoy this poem.  

BULLET AND BLOOD

Raised from the ashes
We were born fighters
Fighting off the evil
For the goodness of the people.

Songs of birds
So rare for us
For we hear the ballad of bullets
Rushing towards us.

We shed tears
Tears in red
Not from our eyes
But from our wounds.

Then comes a day
A day of glory
Where our coffin isn't black
But of the colour of our flag.

Marching band begins
Shots are fired
Announcing our departure
Signals of arrival.