A Martyr's Final Journey Poem by Sajee Rayaroth

She had two toy horses in her room,
A turquoise one named 'The Dream'
Other in olive green named 'The Warrior',
'The Dream' was her dad's gift
When she turned one,
'The Warrior' was her dad's companion
Gifted by grandpa when he was one,
Both horses had flying mane,
Fiery eyes that reflected determination.

Two companions filled her with love
when her dad was away,
In the middle of a cold night
She woke up in fear,
She could hear dad's whispers
It was distant from the misty mountains,
She listened
Then the whisper faded
Her windows slowly started to blur.

Next day among a silent crowd
She stood
With 'The Warrior' in her hand,
Her eyes revealed nothing
But
Silence,
The silence that painfully reflected
An ocean of love
and her dad's last kiss.

His martyrdom resounded
the beat of a Billion hearts,
When she kissed his forehead
for one last time,
She could see a red flower on his chest
drenched in blood smiling at her,
She left 'The Warrior' in his coffin
And reached for the red flower
which touched her fingers with love.