In the prison den

 

 

In the prison  den….

 

Twenty long years

in prison  den,

nothing but isolation,

Loneliness and pathos,

devouring him every moment,

every hour of think and  think

clueless  ; already in exile,

another self  imprisonment why?

So sophistication, no phone calls,

No movie  and pictures, society

Cut off  from him, nothing  but

Introspection, he is unable to cut off

This weed in his heart, this pain

this discomfiture. Only consolation

his wife  and daughter   regular visitors

to his cell;   now  a  small cat sits

views his plight perhaps;

night falls to tap again

his misery and sad……

slowly  his wife    an daughter

bid  good bye …

 

Enough is enough!

 

Enough is enough !

 

No! no, this is enough!

back to my village,

back to the place of calm

serene which nurtured me

for years now .

No more bombs from cities

war-torn, no more hellish fire

of noises, no more soldiers

dying and falling like peanuts;

no  poor  loosing  homes,

children and innocent aged

loosing lives ; enough is enough,

dying soldier thirsty , still fresh

in my heart fresh as  green anything.

Recall those days and months

Blood running like water,

Helpless those running away

from the  sight; battalions,

mechanical and heartless,

impelled by duty conscious ,

ever ready with guns every moment

every shot, end no where.

 This  morning so serene

In my village, I wish the same

Always in my life, every moment

Of my being, my breathing.