No retreat

= 2496

Morning has come again, my Lord!

Another day for vigorous work

Loads on my back, whips on my back




The price I pay for being bitumen

Making roads

For many to walk on

For metallic figures to thread on

Figures I never know.


I am uselessly important

That man is a bastard

A man with muddy hands

A man with a lean body

Bootless feet, with threads

The prize of making those who know

The price of living amidst gold.


The next minute, the minute lunch

To sustain me till the next meal

Some 24 hours later

I till and dig

I scratch and scoop

I pull, push and gather

But he throws away to the birds of the air

Even though I’m illiterate, under my

Rusty cage, beside my oil less lamp

I sit and write of my encounters

Compromising forever……..


One thing

The thing they dread saying

In open midday sun

The fear of the known

Fear of being hunted for

Being against the white boss

             That is why I keep asking myself

                Why die on the doorstep,

                   The doorstep to my destiny?

                       After all those thousand miles

                           Only to tire at the doorstep?

                               Is that justice to my dedicated soul?


Even though I face ridicule

Dogs never transform to cats

They always bark

Only retreat at gun powder.


Far and wide I have walked exhaustively

Acting strange like an alien

But rude is the shock, bullet if I complain

Blows if I slow and backslide

They only way to save my skin

Hide under the sheath of pretense.

       Deep inside crumble, painfully comforting

         My grieved soul, watching tearfully

             Hoping that I’ll not be the next to

               ‘Eat the sack’ tomorrow- in the line of duty


Comrades! Wake up!

The fight is near, on and raw!

Let’s rekindle our charred souls

From the dust we eat for the evening’s best meal

If we must die, then let’s die soldiers

Because soldiers, once a soldier always a soldier

And no retreating for back up

For if four of us must die without making it

Then all the others will pass through it.


We are saviors of the tribe, our regime must reign

Let the blisters encourage us

Revenge is the best medicine in retaliation

For if we remain cowards

The elite men will laugh at us

Love the sword and die by it

For in there,

For in there

Lies the FREEDOM!

 -photo credit:soulpancake

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