Mettle

Armed with the INSAS

He sits 18000 ft above

Where no layman can reach

Or think of visiting

The need to protect

And to serve

The 1.2 billion

Sitting far, far away

Keeps him going

In the biting cold

In the scorching June

A bit of whiskey

To warm his soul

And to fill the aching space
In his heart

That longs for his family

Is enough today

To keep him going

Until he breathes his last