The w*r-drum sounds, the earth trembles,
The soil calls—who can stop me?
I march ahead without a doubt,
Even if death stands tall, it will be brought down like Lanka.
Why should I fear weapons and arms?
My aim is clear—the cry of victory!
I am the lone warrior of the Chakravyuh,
Surrounded by a hundred fighters.
No deceit, no fear in my heart,
Whether I win or die, I shall not lose.
Though my hands may be weaponless,
My arms hold an unmatched power.
They all thought—a child is trapped,
But in my eyes blazed a fire born of fate.
I challenged each and every one,
Each strike of mine weighed heavy on the enemy.
Though they spun a thousand traps,
I shall break every binding knot.
I am the lone warrior of the Chakravyuh,
Surrounded by a hundred fighters.
No deceit, no fear in my heart,
Whether I win or die, I shall not lose.
Though my hands may be weaponless,
My arms hold an unmatched power.
O mighty warriors, what kind of w*r is this?
You rage, yet you f***t with deceit.
Alone I stand, but my strength is immense—
Today, I shall show you the power of my devotion.
He who fears death cannot be a fighter,
But I was born to f***t, to stand ever brighter!
Weapons fall, wounds cover my body,
But my strike lives on—immortal in glory.
This earth shall echo my tale forever,
Of a warrior who was greater than ever.
Yes, I was alone… but I never lost.
