Tuesday, April 13, 2010

His Last Lament


(A so called petty commoner regrets having crossed his late middle age, and three decades of vain effort of disbelieving God! He can't bear any longer the flashbacks of his demonic triumphs and as the echo of his sin keeps hammering his conscience, he feels it has been time for him to end his abhorrent chapter…)

Oh all red, red and red
Please let me die under a white grave…

I was in my days in those days:
A revolutionary bastard
With ample lifeblood
To spill, spoil and sip,
Mad and desperate
To discover his dream
In each rays of your sunshine
In every twist of your breeze-

A thousand misjudgements those followed:
I had found my idol!
Thus you moulded me
In your own image,
Cleaning my glasses
With your magical wash,
To enlighten me with those
History and civics I knew not-

Mist anchoring my fragile specs is no apology:
I slaughtered a promising countryman!
Scalded the book of his ethics,
Wrongly manipulated a soul-
Dipping those fingers in blood
Had tried to wash every last sin
Ah the vampire you gave birth to
Today can’t live with his gory myths-

Oh mayhem and mayhem all around
Please let me die under the deepest grave…


-littleWriter

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