On day nine, despair begins to seep,
As my heart cries out for those who sleep.
Drona and Bhishma, unyielding and strong,
Seem to grow stronger as the war drags along.

Krishna urges me still, to keep my faith,
To trust in the path that destiny wraiths.
Yet how can I strike down those I love?
The price of this war, too high above.

My arrows strike true, but my heart remains torn,
As day nine leaves me shattered and worn.
The battle grows darker, the end still unclear,
But dharma calls, louder than fear.

Pitamah Bhisma's arrows hit me,
His horses, besides Krishna.
Out of control the horses ran.
Krishna in anger shouted again.

"To protect your charioteer,
And horses, useless you're.
Slay Bhisma how can you?
No more chance for you."

So saying he jumped down,
Towards Bhisma He ran.
No resistance Bhisma offered.
As death from Him he preferred.

I prayed for His mercy.
To kill Bhisma, it wasn't easy.
Bhisma resumed his fight.
He killed many left and right.

At the sunset to an end it came.
Tired every one became.
Happy that day was Duryodhana.
With the performance of Bhisma.