Today’s blog talks about future. I mean who would have thought, a typical, nerdy school kid like me would have started her own blog?
Future is so uncertain and so are the consequences of our actions. I don’t know where I would take this blog (or more precisely where this blog would take me in future). But, what I know for sure is what happens with the characters in my poem, which you guys would have to read to know.( I don’t reveal spoilers!)
Deep down in a dense jungle,
Roared a lion, lying on a hay bundle,
“Present me my food, ye animals humble,
Else all of the jungle would be in a crumble”!
Hearing this all the animals were too scared too enthuse,
For all their lives were too precious to loose,
All headed to their homes in neat, long queues,
For it was a situation neither of prudence or amuse.
A little bird then twitched her tail,
And said it was a challenge in which they could not fail,
“We have to fight the mighty lion and sail,
To the bank of victory, strong, sturdy and not pale”!
Hearing this, the animals scurried away,
Too scared to give this thought in their minds a way,
The little bird stood strong and courageous,
Ready to face the lion come what may.
The lion due to his old age had lost his alacrity,
But the little bird was too vain to take even a twinge of pity,
She considered the lion her greatest enemy and prayed to the Almighty,
To not make her stronger and more courageous than the lion but more witty.
Avenging her humiliation was taking shape,
Her prudence and sensibility were all ablaze,
She dreamt of shattering the lion’s pride,
Her stone heart had no space left for any agape.
Slowly and steadily the lion applied skill and technique,
Comprehending his speed, the little bird started to feel pique,
For she thought that the mighty beast was immensely meek,
And thus began the ferocious fight amidst the excited, anxious clique.
The lion pounced, the bird few high,
It was her strategy to first exhaust the lion and the aim for the sky,
Loud and long heard was this battle cry,
In which the lion or the bird had to die.
Suddenly the crowd parted,
For a new fight had started,
The bird was running behind the lion,
The lion was running in the ground uncharted.
The little bird then perched on a bank of a lake,
And waited for the lion, painting her expressions opaque,
The lion had a choice to emerge victorious or make it slake,
It was a risk he had to take.
The lion then drew back a little,
For he desired to make the little revolutionary’s death highly remittal,
The little bird’s mouth out of fear was dry of spittle,
The lion then jumped on a platform near the lake highly brittle.
Sensing the danger of drowning the lion started to yelp,
But the animals rejoiced not caring to extend a hand of help,
The little bird’s praises were sung wide and far,
For she had given freedom to everyone in the jungle from an insect to a kelp.
For a few days the little bird was consecrated,
Her praising continued unabated,
At the same time, a danger was circling the jungle unabated,
It was time for the animals to be serious and culminate celebrating being elated.
The mortal man afraid of the lion, kept away from the forest,
But now it was time to massacre the animals, humble and modest,
He started felling the trees to ashes and dust,
For now he longed to fulfil his lust.
The jungle was set on fire,
Everything was tainted from the shrubs to the mire,
The little bird lost the respect she had acquired,
To undo the killing of the beast was her ultimate desire.
The animals cast her reproachful looks,
She was granted a throne amongst the crooks,
Her vengeance had costed her jungle’s best hooks,
Hatred was seen in every corners and every nooks.
The little bird then repented her decision unwise,
She had murdered her protector in disguise,
Everywhere were visible mirages of lies,
For she had killed her protector in disguise.
The gay, vibrant jungle was now depressed,
Now there was only angst and no jest,
For they failed to comply to the mighty beast’s request,
They won the battle but failed to conquest…
Let me know of any alternative endings, this poem could have.
Waiting for your comments.
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