Visitor Board

Dec 20, 2011


This coating of soot on the dusty floor?
These are ashes, my daughter. Of hopes and dreams.
They gleefully burnt my fragile wings when I was young--
Plucked my feathers and viciously tore my voice-box.
It was the last song ever sung.
That song - the one of freedom.

Look - here on my finger, this soot I will show you.
Can you smell it? This is the smell of hopelessness
And emotional fragility, where they raped my passion.
Can you see how opaque it is, how black?
It is dark, much like their rotting hearts.
Much like the godly entity that let this calamity transcend on me.

These soot lines on my cheeks are not a sign of surrender.
It is a battle mark, a medallion, a red flag--
Dignity is my queen. And I am its defender.
I am not this vicious fire that eats away hope,
I am not these flames that burn away dreams,
I am not this smoke that inhibits your vision

They numbed my senses
And suffocated me with sarin.
But I will never let you touch this soot.
Your dreams will never be devoured
By cruelty and fire.
You will never wither away
Wither away like I did.
There is a fire that destroys human progression,
And there is a fire in you, your mechanical propeller.


Post a Comment

What did you think of the poem? Post your review here!

Template by:
Free Blog Templates