Urge to serve the nation was high

When he saw bodies, blood scatter,

His young age, never did matter,

And a teardrop fell from his eye.

Inquilab Zindabad, his cry,

Motivated the rest to fight,

Always stand up for what is right.

Killed at the age of twenty three,

The brave lad kissed the rope with glee,

Bhagat Singh, the name remained bright.

*First published in Penmancy for Penmuse72