Wednesday, January 4, 2012
PRISONER OF THE WAR!!
The dew drenched bench,
The rusted bench,
The dirty path,
And the shattered pieces of glass.
A cool breeze,
Sound of the waters hitting the shore,
And that shabby little whore.
Far across the street a blinding light,
Beautiful white and very bright,
Mistaken to be the moon,
Which has not yet rose in the sky to its full height.
Few more steps closer,
Not a moon I find,
I found a street light,
Fog hid the lamppost behind.
Mom I was afraid,
Not of death,
But how would I make out,
In the cruel world's depth.
I was brought this far away place,
When even the flying butterflies often left me amazed,
I held Papa's finger tight,
He motivated me not to fright.
I and Papa weren’t in the same room,
All the daylong I spent with a broom,
Every time I cleaned the corridor floor,
An officer would spit across the door,
And say in a harsh sarcastic tone,
“Do it again fella!!”.
I thought it was some kind of a game we were in,
Where the most obedient wins,
Only later I realized,
I was a top with no spin.
Very less of Papa I see now-a-days,
But I really miss how a lot more,
Days were full of work,
And sleep was a hard luck!!
Many nights I spent crying,
Wondering what Papa was doing,
After a very long time I got a call to visit Papa’s cell,
It just resembled me the feared hell.
Neither was he weak nor was he ill,
Fellow prisoners said that he was threatened to be killed,
I never even in my scariest of the dreams I dreamt of it,
To be all by myself and mourn for at my Papa’s feet,
He was murdered brutally,
I witnessed the cruelty at its peak.
No one to care,
And nowhere to go,
Now that I decided to escape,
A decade and a half of careful planning,
For the right moment to escape I was waiting,
Alas!! I am out now where I dreamt of,
Unfortunately it’s not the same as it dreamt of.
I go back in there I die,
And I walk forward too I die,
But I will never back down,
I would gypsy from town to town.
I will fly away to a place really very far,
Where I would no more be a PRISONER OF THE WAR!!