The dew drenched bench,
The rusted bench,
The dirty path,
And the shattered pieces of glass.
The howling wolf,
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,
Of the cruel world's depth.
I was brought to this far away place,
Where 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,
But didn’t know how..??
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 thought 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!!