Free Bondsmen

The day is drawing to a close,

the sun, turns red the sky;

the birds and beasts, all set to doze,

find sleep where land is dry.

With envy I see, the peace abounding,

in all the creature world;

as I start to savour sand and sea,

more beauty is unfurled.

The sun is gone, and in its place,

Comes night’s good king, the moon;

Astrologers foretell, from its coloured face,

What is to come quite soon.

Think not the marks, upon the moon,

reveal ugliness, or scar;

The wisdom in the form of rune,

Tells us of experience; does not mar.

Then it quickly dawns on me,

That I have much to do;

Complete my work that is to be

Done; and quickly too.

Oh! so sad, is the price we pay ,

For being a ‘civilised’ race;

If peace be the ultimate goal in life,

We ought not show our face.

I’d rather be, with my own race,

A free bird of the wild;

Than writing tests I’m meant to ace,

(Competition, aggression, is no more mild).

For what?, I ask, what for?, I say,

For little ticks of green?

The leaf of God makes skies less grey,

Unlike for which with lives we play.

We should go back to where we started,

To Darwin’s hairy ape;

But something tells me; leaves me stunned,

Alas! We are too late.

All I ask, in my next life,

Is to be born again;

As bird or beast or creature,

Not bound by social bars and chains;

Born free is what I want to remain.

- Tarun Mathew Doss