A gun was shot, or a few perhaps.
A small ball of lead travelled through the air and pierced his heart.
With a smile on his face, he embraced his death,
And his dreams of being home for Diwali fell with his gun.
Wrapped in a flag, his body came home.
His mother in tears and his son clueless.
His wife still thinking if it was a nightmare.
His face still glowing of pride and bravery.
And his friends were there to fire some rounds in his honour.