The Murderer

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The globe danced round and round and I glanced,
Countries filled with cities and towns with people filled,
Round and round they too danced and unknowingly moved,
My conscience, the little boy said “what a blissful ignorance”.

The Sun and moon and other globes took all of us with them,
Through the empty space in dark and light of stars and force,
Dreams we weaved about those flights and the world we forgot,
And the little boy said “what an unforgivable fantasy”.

Age may change the color of my hair, not the content of my character,
Time may show faces unseen but sure I never will forget or forgive,
Silence never lived even in the depth of my soul that fuels,
As the little boy never grew up but still said “what a shame”.

Through my fantastic imaginations, I became the judge,
As life’s misery all around I see and empty handed I stood,
Helplessness became a plague that left me no choice,
As I shot that little boy again and again until he died.

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Photo by Ali Pazani on Unsplash

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