When the will to fight dies, trouble seems to touch the skies The ray of hope from no where rise, and the way seems to be lost in disguise. When every effort is dying hastily, in the cruel hands of destiny. When every single straw of hope, is drowning into the river of sorrow. When the last beacon of shore, is gradually fading in the stormy roars. When the last lamp lighting your path is dwindling in the ghastly dark. Don’t loose hope as you are still breathing. Find courage, reasons and love for living. Time is a wheel continuously moving. All you have to be is the last man standing…
— Major Sumit Bhashera 43 RR BN (RAJ RIF)
