On the surface, I see a creature;
he toils in the night, and tries to rest;
just then something strikes,
and the creature meets its death.
When the surface is revealed,
and the curtain is raised;
a hand appears,
Unaffected, unfazed.
The hand is blooded,
and the creature lies there;
the black of his body,
smeared red in despair.
It could have caused a disease,
or an epidemic, the hand said;
there will always be another one,
for this one dead!
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1 comment:
waaah waaah...siddhu the great poet...neaat...i suck at interpretations of poems as you already know...so let me know what that creature was later...ill call to know the analysis...might help me in the my lit understanding....hahha....
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