Martyr to Truth

The path to truth
is a lonely one;
One not littered by
carcass of sycophants;
The day you step
on that path,
Rest assured that misery
shall keep you company
till your last breath;
Careful, lest you fall prey
To intolerance that you despise;
The day you step aside from truth,
and step gingerly,
Fearful of hurting feelings, and
Practice political correctness,
You die.

From that moment onward,
with an aching heart,
Lonely and miserable,
Your skeleton marches,
The rotting bones whisper
in your ears,
Words of wisdom
that you feel are true;
Alas,
No longer alive,
Your silence speaks for you;
And soon,
Another martyr to truth
bites the dust.

Bell tolls for all

‘You, too, have come where the dim tides are hurled
Upon the wharves of sorrow, and heard ring
The bell that calls us on; the sweet far thing.’ —W.B. Yeats

Battlefields were gone long ago, bones turned to dust
Thousands perished here feeding conquerors’ power lust

They were young once, full of ambitions and dreams
Life cut short in distant lands amid pain and screams

Call of duty, false pride or manipulated by the powerful
They came in hordes, primed to kill, but dying like fools

Promises unfulfilled, broken hearts’ lonely cries unheard
Silent cries crush the hearts of myriad orphans left behind

Crumpled statues litter the landscape, those who gave the war calls
Take heart lost ones, when the dust settles, the bell tolls for all

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This poem is in response to Jane Dougherty’s A Month (November) with Yeats Challenge day Fifteen

Crimson Crown

The streets are empty now, mourners have gone home
Lonely flower bouquets keeping each other company
Street lamps casting their lights as shadows roam
Here and there a few walk around drunkenly

What a lovely day it was full of laughter and hope
People milling around happily, sun shining through
A few shady characters trying to sell some dope
As I saw her coming down the street, my hope grew

She came with open arms and thousand roses bloomed
Her rosy cheeks and radiant smile filled my heart with joy
Never did I realized my love was to be short lived and doomed
In my imagination, she was more beautiful than Helen of Troy

Single red rose I offered she accepted with glee
Hand in hand we walked enjoying the day
Oblivious to the world around us, our spirits free
Ready to face the unknown future, come what may

When it came it came with a bang, no one expected
Peace was shattered, sun hid its face, the street exploded
Loud bang followed by deadly silence was all that remained
Blood and bones scattered everywhere, as chaos reigned

Amidst the ruins I looked for my love, where my joy has gone
Stem of the red rose bereft of its petals was the only memento I found
Heart filled with grief, bracing myself to a pole, looked up at the setting sun
Red rose petals mixed with gold blazed like a crimson crown

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This poem is in response to Jane Dougherty’s A Month (November) with Yeats Challenge day Seven