BHISHMA'S FALL
I. The vermillion orb rose to mark, Beginning of an end so dark––– Blood and tears would be shed beyond contemplation ‘Cause Ego of Men knows not subjugation. II. Nocking his arrow, pulling his bowstring, Bhishma whispered an enchantment, his fingers loosening: Tearing through air the dart shot forth, Bearing its aimer’s will ––– To Yama’s abode deport ten thousand poor souls: Braving combat ‘neath the Pandava flagpoles. ...