A Suicide At Midnight – Afsal

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Author     :   Afsal
Company :  Zafin
Email       :  afsal.abdulkhani@zafin.com

A suicide at Midnight

Knocks at the threshold at midnight,

Closed the book, and peeped through;

A personable bearded, bald man in long robes,

I invited him in, heartily as if close relatives

Enquired, what do want? Purpose of peregrination?

Oh, I am poet Laureate of Hades,

The realm of Pluto and in search of

An assistant and hesitated to reveal more

Started to enquire about me, I baffled

But replied sincerely

What is your identity?

            Sir, I am Hamlet, Master of Arts;

            Son of Shakespeare, Now alone… a gypsy;

            No deserts.

What the job you do now?

            Yes, I think … I kill time

            And I flutter and dance

            Like a solitary reaper

            At every skunk hour

What are your credentials?

            I have some hard, coloured papers

            With round signets and printed in beautiful letters;

            And I experienced words, words, words,

            Faces and movements, but no meaning

What about the king of this realm?

            Yes it is God, The Almighty, I genuflect

            But Science too claims the throne

            I don’t like Him, but the atoms

            For atoms are God’s castles.

What about your companions?

            I have a number of familiar faces

            But I am alone and lonely

            I loved an angel, Desdemona

            But she loves all the men she can

What is the abundance you feel here?

            Treachery, hatred, indigence,

            Pride, lawlessness, jealousy,

            Fornication, prostitution, arrogance,

            Felony, treason, murder, but some whiteness sporadic,

            “Cucullus non facit monachum”

What is the defalcation you feel here?

            Love, sincerity, benevolence,

            Friendship, affections, smiles,

            And happiness …

            Yes, “Magnum civitas magna solitude”

What are your hobbies?

            I eat: mutton, chicken, edible fruits,

            Selected fortified materials

            I exercise: warm up, push-ups, pull-ups,

            Sit-ups, dump-bells and all martial arts

            To be delectable food for worms

What are the things you like most?

            Music, rhythms, waves

            Colours, patterns, curves,

            Flies, nests, bewitching cries,

            Roaring sea, setting sun, sparkling stars

What is your vision about life?

            Life… oh….. We propose, God disposes,

            No…. no…. God proposes and we obey

            That is right; but no certainty

What is your aim in life?

            That is …. To be or not to be

            I want…. a poet, a lover…. a lunatic,

            No, I want to die, enjoying the process,

            To accomplish my dreams, for the realm of

            Death is vast; before the world ends.

What is your plan of Death?

            I have a beautiful plan to die

            The last drops of Socrates: Hemlock

            Come dear alien, let’s die

            And enjoy the beatitude

Ha …. Ha …. I am impressed Hamlet

But I died centuries ago, I am Shakespeare

Your father ….. Came to rescue you

You can be my Assistant, I am proud of being

Your father ……………….. “Drink”

Oh! Father it pierces my throat

Like a dagger. Yes, now I can see all

My brothers and relatives: “here Othello, hello Macbeth,

Welcome Ophelia, Coriolanus…. Oh”

“Cousin Beatrice…. Oh all are beautiful”

I raised; and we went out

Like fog we flew up, below….. A deserted house

Sighs and cries came up like fireballs

Congealed blood on the floor

Amid, a lost, stiff body waiting for worms.

Life sprouts up again in a whisky bottle for………………………

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