The Martyr

There was once a young man

Whose life with violence, was fraught

Overflowing with regret and anger

Vengeance, his distressed heart sought

But latent his hatred, within him, lay

For he lacked the means to attain his end

Though, very cunningly, biding its time

To avenge his pride, that was yet to mend

On his way home one early morn,

Accosted he was, by a bigot in disguise

Saying he was a messenger of God,

Claiming himself to be wisest of the wise

Preaching a sordid lesson of death

He alleged, damaged pride could be mended

Wanting the man to be a martyr

He declared, “Only with violence, can violence be ended”

With the sermon over

His hatred fiercely incited, the man found

Reasoning against reason,

He sensed rage within, vigorously begin to pound

His judgement clouded

Accepting the bigot’s words, as solemn truth

To silence his seething heart

The man impulsively resolved, to martyr his youth

Then resuming his walk home

He came across a crowded market place

When arose a flicker of doubt

As he rested his eyes on a baby’s untainted face

Suddenly his heart melting within

He stopped in his tracks, compelled to wonder

Was vengeance truly necessary?

Or was he just committing a dreadful blunder?

Slowly realization dawned

That such revenge was a worthless fate

He finally understood

That all hate does is breed more hate

His mind, at ease

Heart at peace, he decided to move on

A sudden flash and thunder

The light from his eyes, was forever gone

- Kartik Shastry