Posted in Art, My Poetry, Writing

From Prison to War

Handcuffs weigh much more than gravestones.

Visar Zhiti

Forsaken and forlorn,

I’ve rarely seen the sun.

There were walls,

Dark, cold, hard,

Impossible to break.

There were bars and metal gates

As I’d exit my humble abode,

Commanded by those in control

To work, work, work

And seek repentance for my sins:

I was not gray like everybody else,

I thought of joy and colorful desires,

I thought of skies — not dull and rainy veils —

But azure valleys graced by lively clouds.

I thought of changing laws set by our King

And making life for everybody simpler.

I thought that love would one day save our souls

And banish with its rays the pallid winter

That is this world.

I ended up in here.

After a few forevers

They let me free, I guess, for good behavior;

I haven’t hurt a fly or thought of freedom.

I now return, my heart and spirit frightened,

To this appalling world of black and white.

And no, I’ve not forgotten what is right

But is it wise to fight?

Nobody stands with me,

Nobody wants to see…

Like on a chessboard, with no light in store,

I’ll be a puny pawn once more.

But then —

This indescribable feeling,

A premonition of a great big change.

The people I once knew are acting strange.

I look around and come to this conclusion:

This world is overrun by revolution.

I see the streets are littered with protesters

Who are being killed.

I see the castle overrun by archers

Who are being chained.

I see my captors losing to the warriors

Who are being strangled.

But every soul awakened from the gray

And every person fighting here today

The battle for a brighter, freer world

Has brought me peace…

 

As I take up my sword,

I know there’s little chance that I’ll survive.

I see there’s little chance that we’ll survive

But I — we won’t give up. At any rate,

It will be fun to tamper with out fate.

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Author:

Absolutely fantastic procrastinator. Creative, often irrational, hyperactive. Reader, writer, artist, photographer, film-maker, gamer.

2 thoughts on “From Prison to War

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