Saturday, 5 September 2015

You don't need to know.

I asked you not to ponder,
And I told you what I could.
You pushed and I thwarted,
No, move away from this box.

A box, you say.
A box, so safe.
What, in it, you hold?
Give us a little peek, just for a moment.

It's not yours to open.
Don't loiter around now, go.
Don't ask me what's in it.
Don't make guesses, you don't need to know.

But you asked and you guessed,
You wanted the key,
But I wouldn't give.
Your mind, curious, scared.

Tucked me into bed,
And bid me love and kisses,
Off you went, the moment I slept,
To find out.

You lurked, you schemed.
Oh what could be so precious.
So close to her heart.
Isn't she promised to me?
Then her box and she shall one day be mine.

To that thought, you smiled.
I'll break the box open and apologise.
My curiosity be damned but I must be forgiven.
And at once, you brought down a hammer upon it's head.
And it burst, into flames.

Little did he know,
That box opened only to burn away, to erase.
It had all of her, in a million obscure compartments,
With a million different keys
It scorched her and devoured a bit,
Every time a compartment opened.

He went back to the room,
To find an empty bed and a note.
I only wanted to give you the truth,
But only the ones you deserved to know.
I wasn't all yours to have. I never shall have been.
Tell me, love, should I have lied?
Now, there's nothing left to know. 
Now, there's nothing left to erase.

What would make you shoot someone?

What would make you shoot someone?
Point a gun to their head, look into their pleading eyes,
And pull the trigger.
What goes on in your mind as they fall limp to the ground?
A triumphant cheer? A stray tear?
Their inanimate selves, as you leave behind and walk,
Would you remember?
Their faces. Their voices.
What would make you shoot them?
Is it that easy to cease their breaths?
A person is no more. 
A person shall rot.
And your trigger shall be the cause.
What would make you pull it?
What do you think before that?
It is just a child, that face knows no guilt.
Only fear.
What do you hate there? What is it that you're trying to erase?
That man that just fell on your knives.
His only guilt was that he had slapped his child once.
What do you seek? What have so far found?
Oh, think. The streets are lined with the blood of your games.
They could all have loved.
And now a war, you've started.
What are your reasons. Tell me of every one of them.
I'm waiting to grow up and I will have my bullet ready.
Have your answers ready too, by then.