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Storm Stricken Man
In the nights so cold,
In the streets so old,
Forsaken by mankind,
And where no soul but the shadows played,
Lived a man who was very weary and old…
Some say he was a mad man,
Some say he was amnesiac or demented,
So said some, he was wizard…
Curious me decided to find.
I went to the streets so old,
And in the night that indeed was very cold,
I greeted the old man,
And the old man smiled,
And said: “what brings you hither?”
And I told him I was curious to know the cause of his plight…
Then he narrated to me this by lighting a candle for little light,
“Long before many years ago,
I was a happy man with my family and friends and nay a single foe,
I had fields and cattle,
Green were the fields, hale and hearty were my cattle,
Happy was my family, happy was I…
But I remember that wretched cursed day,
When the sun didn’t rise,
The darkness prevailed,
The winds became stronger,
And they tore the trees and the roofs,
Mercilessly, being kind and gentle no longer…
Was the world ending???
With the clouds loud thundering,
As if calling for ferocious battle,
Lightning, that would strike anywhere anybody,
Like the arrows of the enemy that pierce your head or pierce your heart,
And strike with no aforesaid warning,
And so did the hungry rivers rise,
They rose and devoured our children and our homes,
Our cattle and our fields…
Flown away were the roofs,
Washed away the homes,
And lost were the families…
Lost was all…
All taken away,
In a storm…”
And the tears wet his cheeks,
And still dripping drop by drop down his wrinkled cheeks…
He sighed, lamented, and expressed wrath,
And breathed his last breath…
