Hope the rain can wash away my pain—
For all his medals, they bring no gain.
He was brought home, draped in tricolor,
A hero, they sang paeans of his valour.
He went with head held high, not fearing death,
And fought the enemy bravely till his last breath.
A martyr—his name carved deep in stone,
But for a mother, life is harder alone.
No mother dreams of martyrdom—
I dreamed of weddings, lullabies, and heroism.
Now every morning, I despise the sunrise,
For no knock or ring brings a surprise.
Let the rain wipe away war’s red stain,
Let only his name and love remain.
That might soothe my soul again—
Hope the rain can wash away this pain.
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