“Oh what a miraculous joy this is,
How child, did you survive?
How did you escape that house of sin?
Where all were burned alive?”
The pious woman let me in,
And sat me down on a cot,
Here, religion cluttered every wall,
And carving, plate and pot.
I examined myself in the mirror across,
My white coat, burned and black,
My body coated in bruises and soot,
Reminders of the attack…
My hunger calmed by broth and bread,
My feet not frozen cold,
I turned to meet those questioning eyes,
And out my story rolled...
“Curiosity is the devil’s curse,
You won’t hear a scientist say,
And I’ve been guilty of this vice,
Every single day…”
“What better way, to feed it fat,
Than join ‘The House’ on the hills,
Where people dressed in immaculate white,
Enjoyed scientific thrills…”
“The visitors we were set to explore,
Separating them from their hide,
Oh! Disaster, we should’ve foreseen,
That lay in wait, inside…”
Her face, ashen in disbelief,
As I put my words together,
Goosebumps rose and never set,
It surely wasn’t the weather…
“The poisons it spewed, they filled our lungs,
And burned our eyes to tears,
It tricked our minds, with visions it played,
Bringing out our darkest fears…”
“Fearful yet stubborn, they refused to leave,
This demon they called their find,
But I knew better than to wait and watch,
So I left it all behind…”
“No sooner had I decided to leave,
The air itself was ablaze,
I flung myself through a window near,
The happenings that followed, a haze…”
I slept that night, in my mother’s arms,
The House, now razed to the ground,
The teams, they searched up high, down low,
But nothing unusual was found…
1 comments:
I like your poems more than your stories. :)
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