Mahabharat in English rhyme

Shalya Parva began with Karna laid low,
Now Yudhishthira’s wrath began to grow.
Shalya took charge of Kaurava's last stand,
A reluctant leader with a wavering hand.

Yet valor met fate on Kurukshetra’s red plain,
As heroes fell like monsoon’s ceaseless rain.
In Sauptika’s darkness, a deed most dire,
Ashwatthama struck with vengeance and fire.

He entered camps where warriors lay in sleep,
And sowed the night with slaughter dark and deep.
Stri Parva followed with wailing and flame,
Queens and mothers cried each warrior's name.

Gandhari wept, her heart turned to stone,
Cursing Krishna for the seeds her sons had sown.
Grief hung heavy in Hastinapur’s air,
As loss and lament wrapped the throne in despair.