Me, in camp, looking bored, as usual

"Nineteen Eight"

We were the elite
The hope of a dying nation
Our shoulders built up for her pains
Her last chance for survival
Bearing the saving grace nomenclature

We read and wrote
Studied and burnt candles
The minute waxes that remained
Proof of our midnight struggles
We ran out supreme
Fastened to the saddle
Riding on to the sunset
We heard we were conquerors
Knights of pure breed, they said

Now, we queue for mere food
Living out the hunger games
Princes become frogs
Fearing the kiss of the soldier's wrath
Hopping from hostels to parades
And everywhere in between

Fists are clenched
Shaken at faces marking vexed souls
Disorder reigns supreme
Threats and insults lord over the subjects
Scrambles for crumbs of penury
Have become our day
Savages we have become
Maybe we have been all along
For nineteen eight
For the love of nineteen eight