Quite a push for an amateur like me, this one. This poem has been recently published in a magazine called ‘UnBound’ which released on the auspicious Independence day. The Editors of it being real wordsmiths. Thanks to this amazing group on Facebook, ‘For Writers, By Authors’, a wheel-turner, trust me.
Lustrous eyes and a beaming countenance,
His tiny legs kicking the walls of the cradle,
his father’s blissful face, seemingly intense,
until a hideous traitor rocked the cradle.
Stabbed from behind, the father profusely bled.
Minutes later, he lay there, dead.
The kid oblivious, his mother widowed.
Days later, the highest bidder
bought the kid and his mother.
Enslaved, the mother would shudder.
Yet, there were none to bother.
Time pranced in elegance;
the kid’s destiny did not.
With a shrunken body, dreary countenance
and a starving mother, he fought.
He had a semblance of bravery,
to survive through such barbaric slavery.
The epiphany dawned as his diseased mother,
deprived of a morsel, turned to a deceased mother.
He stood against his master’s whip,
gathering more courage than sinew.
“I no longer belong to you.
Your vice has lost its grip.
I have unchained my pinions,
and I’m not one of your minions.”
He dawned in the dusk of his mother’s.
And freedom unveiled his feathers.
The sunlight initially blinded his eyes,
but freedom finally opened his eyes.
After all, myriad nights hence, it finally dawned.