Persecution Poem by Nash Thomas

In a dream, I saw a man was persecuted,
Mercilessly persecuted,
By charging of many crimes,
Just to get promotion for an officer,
A corrupt police officer,
He was a man of words,
Running like a flow of streams,
On the day of hanging,
A member of public asked for a poem,
He wrote,
" I am active"
" I am active"
" I am mortal"
" I am mortal"
" But my script will live"
" Live for centuries"
" Let the hang-
Make it a charm-
To live for ever-
In the minds of millions-
By chanting nice words,
By chanting nice memories"
He tried to smile,
But tears came,
That pass through the beard,
Drops were fallen to earth
That sport became a memory,
Rulers were thrown way,
The spot of last tears -
Became the greatest tourist spot.



23/11/2018,8.13 PM, Kadammanitta, Kerala, India