Cruelty of the Revolution
A poem dedicated to my close friend Helena.
The death anniversary of her late grandfather who died in a war.
Blood.
Everywhere.
The screams of men echoed in the silent streets of Kyoto.
The sounds of swords clashing could be heard from every corner.
I stood paralysed in the harsh rain
My eyes widened at what was unfolding before me
My breath came in short gasps;
A dire attempt to regain my consciousness
STOP! I wanted to screech out. Anything but this!
But I couldn't. Shock was stabbing every inch of my petite body.
I forced myself to look away but that was impossible.
Everywhere I looked, skin was getting sliced.
Tears sprang forth. I glared at the heavens, the only place where blood didn't exist.
Crystal droplets of water splashed on my pale face.
I didn't move. My cold breathe came in ragged gasps.
Suddenly, the cries from hell stopped.
I eased my flooded eyes open. Everything was quiet.
Almost as if nothing had happened.
Blood stained the thirsty ground. Lifeless bodies heaped around me.
The soft hush of falling rain was the only sound.
I collapsed to my knees; the movement allowing me to feel my drenched clothes.
The stench of dead bodies entered my nostrils;
Driving my sense of smell to the extreme. I coughed.
It was all too much. Not just the foul odour but everything.
This revolution. These assassinations. Everything!
I looked around me; my sea blue orbs taking everything in.
When were these massacres going to stop?
When can everyone smile again?
When was everything going to return to the way they were?
Questions engulfed my thoughts. All questions but no answers.
I breathed in one last time before darkness clouded my wet vision.
I broke down. My body reached the crimson ground with a soft thud.
My eyes clamped shut;
Desperately escaping this harsh cruelty into pure darkness.
Please stop. Anything but this...
By the way, if you're wondering, the narrator didn't die, she just fainted.
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