The Flying Enemy Poem by Kizhekepat Sankaran

In the darkness of the night
Against a light bulb zero watt
I see you menacingly whiz past
Straining to show off your flying art

Whoosh, Whoosh, you are trapped in the fly bat
The current stuns and lays you flat
Unseen, unheard and unsmelt
Electrocution ends your happy flight.

Your gleeful joy and flying prowess lost,
With crackles and tiny bursts you are bust.
What power have you met
To spoil your ancient evil intent?

Your companion lies nearby on the bat,
Too frightened of the electrocution bout,
Far too scared to move about.
What Power? What ominous fate?

Has he turned to an ungainly mass of tiny harmless dead dot
That you’ll never make him out.
Or ashes has he turned,
Too liberated to think the last thought.

In me arises the triumphant feeling of conquest
A small battle won over a gnat insignificant.
Is it legitimate, the feeling extravagant
Over a tiny helpless flying dart?

I think of the life that breathed
And your simple search for food and mate.
Such modest needs I outwit.
Do I have the right to nip them out?

Perhaps not.
Ashamed am I, that
I wonder, have you a place legitimate
Here with us humans you bite?

I have no generative might
To create a marvel so minute.
Do I have the right to kill and gloat
Over this fall ultimate?

I search for reasons for my act
Suddenly my voice within states
You have no right to feast
Over my blood and with disease infect.

And I have the right to defend.
… Purely defend, a choice God has granted.
I only know that I have no right
To rejoice over your descend.

Go away please go away
The burden of thoughts dismay.
Enemy, get out of my way
Please fly, fly far away.