you told me it took
twenty years for you
to write that few pages
of your life's unfinished book...
you told me it was a gift
that you possessed within
for two decades nonetheless...
A vision...
of a pool
and madness lurking
all around...
beatings of drum...
cannibal laughter
people smeared with blood
baying for more...
and a baby elephant
badly injured...
half sunk into water
and you going near the baby...to save her...
but you couldn't...
you're not supposed to act
like a saviour...a matter of fact...
but you kissed that baby
her small drooping eyes...
you hugging her
profusely cried...
and the pachyderm
on her way to another world
opened only once
her eyes...so dark
and whispered into your ear
'you got nothing to fear';
Those words...
they rang forever in you
and you tried to write them on pages
in prussian blue...
you told me it took
two decades for to open that book
and write only a few
pages with prussian blue...
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