It’s Not Funny
The stately palace burst aflame and smokeSpread wild like ink in water soon becomes
Blackness. Amid the confusion there broke
Windows followed by footstep sounding thumps.
A robbery! The guards scattered but could
Not see, the ink drowned out their eyes. They cried
Dry tears that choked their feet. They simply stood,
Waiting for smoke to dissipate. They tried,
With trembling hands, to hold each other still.
Clinging onto the next man, one to one.
And when the smoke dried, ending their vigil
The guards scattered to find the damage done
Turned out to be the prince, fallen head first,
Into a window pane. Their choked lungs burst.
Poetry by Sameen
Written on 2026-08-17 at 09:48
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