Crowning his Friday
After the disastrous snow
Blood-stained his threshing lines
Life’s receding billow
Will leave him for the eternal calm
He is yet to know.
Out from his threads of thoughts
there was a window
time preserved there, dreams whispered there
everything soaked in mourning there
every thought of freedom executed there.
Chants of hope tinkling,
not knowing about his breathing last.
His sighs cried for solitude
his resistance frightened the enemy
his unknown sobbing died before its rise.
He cried when the guards laughed
Only eternity witnessed him
His heart bled for