He was a skilful archer and the pride of his father
arrows just left him by the dozen in all directions
even rivals would admire when he was at his best.
He was clouded by the arrows that left his great bow
and the arrows that try to reach him from his foes
his armor was struck by the many darts falling thick.
He shone in bright glory when the sun was upon him
a true warrior, he destroyed by the thousands that day
it was difficult to injure lest conquer him on that day.
By an act of fateful treachery they could lay him low
but what a lowly act it was and rightly shunned by all
he was a dear son now that death had embraced him.
The prince’s father upon his death, took a vow, that night
that the person, the chief responsible, will surely die
before next sunset, come what may, his head would roll.
The sun set early next day by an act of the mighty God
who chose to help his dear disciple who was righteous
in the ensuing confusion and melee, revenge was taken..
The above poem reflects the events of the 13th day
of the Great war, in the Epic Mahabharatha,between
the Pandavas and the Kauravas where the Pandava
prince Abhimanyu displayed mighty skills in archery,
fought valiantly till he got killed by an act of treachery…