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The Blind Survivor

  • Writer: Ebenezer Veerasingam
    Ebenezer Veerasingam
  • Dec 31, 2020
  • 1 min read

"Ayyo Appa I want my eyes" he mourned.

"Give them back to me" he shouted.

"Who asked them to take it away?" he screamed.

"It's paining and it is all empty" he wailed.


Bandaged around his empty eye-chambers,

Within his father's helpless arms,

Here's a little boy with tidal tremors,

Jumping, shaking, shivering and beating,

Like a beast in the slaughterhouse.


The just-now concluded surgery of the eye

Had demanded not a repair but a removal,

With the parent's "yes" halfway through.

The shock-stricken father with his signature of approval,

Knows in the anaesthetic recovery,

That his son's eye-holes are desolate.


He had promised his son

A better world, a few hours ago.

But now with frozen blood and outcries within

He struggles for the next words of assurance.


"Ayyo Appa I want my eyes" he mourned.

"Give them back to me" he shouted.

"Who asked them to take it away?" he screamed.

"It's paining and it is all empty" he wailed.


This blind survivor

With his emptiness in darkness

Can only live to cherish

The last scenes of the fatal war;

The war that took away his precious eyes

And the beautiful childhood vision.


 
 
 

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© Ebenezer B. Veerasingam

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