Through the whirl of war, the chakravyuha spun,
A maze of death where glory was won.
Young Abhimanyu, a lion untamed,
Stood firm, though fate cruelly framed.
His father, Arjuna, away in the fray,
Yet duty called; he could not delay.
With half a secret, he pierced the line,
Knowing escape was not to align.
His karma blazed brighter than mortal fear,
For dharma and honor, he held them dear.
A hero fallen, yet his spirit remains,
A timeless beacon through valor's veins.
