SON

He stood there, on platform twenty-first,
Saying goodbye, experiencing the worst,
Looking at her, the last time, or the first,
Feeling, (of saying more), a sudden thirst

He wished, in that moment, for it to freeze,
For the tick-tock of the big clock just to cease,
And as he wished that, in came a deep breeze,
A whiff of her hair, as if to tease

Her moist eyes, deep as a black sea,
Her smile, which had been, of his happiness, a key,
Creases on her forehead, one for each person,
Her hair, graying, from working in the sun

At the touch of her love, he turned into a poet,
And poetry, flowed, as the two souls met,
And so a son, went to fight for his first mother,
For his soil, and country, leaving behind another.

RUTHLESS..!!

As the night sky saw an unsettled air,

Awoke in bed, the kingdom’s heir,

Just last night, the kingdom he did earn,

His father, still, “fresh” in the urn

Covered head to toe, he sneaked out that night,

Wrote a letter, to give to his knight,

Stopped though, by the fair maid,

Shown a sharp dagger, silent she was made

The letter, in bold words, was to alert the cops,

For the knight to plead guilty, hide evidence of the corpse,

The knight’s lovely wife, met the heir at the ball,

She begged, and cried, he could see her bawl

To pacify her then, he began his ode,

Listed the things, which to him they owed,

The heir, hears no woe, no pray,

Powerful eyes, simply find his prey

He believed in no wrong, and no right,

Ordered the wife, to plan the final rite,

He promised, she would find her husband in one piece,

After this ultimate sacrifice, he would leave her in peace

He left then, at the break of the morn,

The plan, was to play as if in mourn,

He waited around, for the news of whether,

When the scroll came, onset new weather

And so, by the end of the coming week,

The mighty were recruited, he killed the weak,

Evil laughter echoed as the wind whirled,

On the throne, sat, the ruthless ruler of the world.