Delhi Days

A papyrus spear thrown at my door, early;

Faster, faster than anybody could catch it,

Flung by a knight on his wheeled stead,

A force faster than light or its quicker cousin the neutrino,

Armed to kill, it hit my door with a bang,

Its victim, my sleep, died a quick unnatural death,

I have pleaded and even pledged tribute to him,

To the knight that serves as my wakeup call, albeit undesired.

He calls it his duty, to keep subjects aware,

Things that happen need to be told. This round world,

Which pales in comparison to my beautiful sleep,

Needs to see and hear and wake up to the sound

Of bangs louder, and spears thrown faster than his,

Of fences demolished so sheep need no longer jump over,

Of blood flowing freer, unbridled, than the rivers of my dreams,

Of men and women sleeping sounder, forever, than the silence of my sleep.