MicroPakistan

Here is a poem I wrote. I’d be interested in whatever interpretations come out of it. Feel free to comment. 

I meander down a road.

A road which leads nowhere.

Through the light

Into the emptiness I stare. 

I see a man, with smoldering eyes.

His will knows no bound,

His susurrus a thundering sound.

All the while, he fills the skies.

I call out to him,

Brother, who art thou? 

He says he is the captain of my soul,

The master of my goal.

To me he is a netherman,

Somewhat of an also ran. 

Suddenly he is meek and mild.

Suddenly he is a child.

As we talk a while, I crack a melancholic smile.

“Where is this ship sailing, O Captain?

Towards hope, or into sin?

For what I have I fought, there is but nought.” 

He says he does not know.

He says he has to go.

“Where there is much shadow, there is much light.”

His intention is good, his methods a little trite. 

They speak of a second chance.

They talk of the Yahweh dance.

Government I have tried,

As dissident I have died.

Innocence lost can never be regained,

Too cynical have I been trained. 

Yet his persistence wears me down.

Tells me time and again not to frown.

“This is a world you created, you made it on your own.

Prick your ears up, have you heard the trumpet blown?” 

He rubs his hands with glee, takes his cue to flee.

Suddenly there is none left save me.

As the crescendo ends,

I feel the need to make amends.

I have heard the sermon in the thunder,

The black dog inside me is torn asunder.