The Whistleblower Poem by anurag chaudhary

He had voluntarily retired from his profession a little while ago
Indulged in his much deserved nap
Being the creator and the guardian though
He still had a few duties, responsibilities to look after
Headaches which kept him perturbed
That night, he woke up like a little child
His eyelids dripped in tears
He might have seen a horrid dream
For I talk about the almighty God, the ultimate puppeteer
His world was falling like a deck of cards
His plans failing like never before
For the first time he felt a sweat in his brows

What he lacked though was the evidence of the crimes
The sins his prodigal sons were indulged in
He too had gone humane through the million dates
His seasoned sight always seeking for evidence
For, to judge, one can't just believe on his naked eyes
And so a man was chosen, honest enough and worthy too
To stand upfront and confess to his lord
And truth he muttered, word by word and bit by bit
He spoke to the composed hearing of the old lord
About how miserable Eve was in the company of Adam
And how the mortals decided the faith of the immortal one down here
Then the wars were accounted and the peace treaties which followed thereafter
Stories of slaveries were told ahead backed by struggles to get free
Only to be chastised again by our own outlook
A lot was said and all was heard with great intent
The old god had lived alone way too long and by his name
His new found companion was great at cracking anecdotes
The lord wept like a child as his heart bled
Alas, He was in hibernation far too long

The hearing was done, evidences accumulated
The lord was enraged, his fists rolled tight to decree on the judgment
Suddenly something happened, unusual yet innate
His pen dropped as he saw towards the whistleblower,
One of his many prodigal children
He was their father, the forgiver
His heart ceded to the contrite eyes of the whistleblower.