A Weapon Poem by Sk. Nurul Huda

It was that I possess a fresh and sharp weapon,
Spontaneously I used its bloody & reflecting middle part;
She was and some were wounded easily but not killed.
Time passes ….
Suddenly I discover it is not so useful now,
I learned, from a man of three heads, some tips,
I use its top part also to select the victims,
They are now seriously wounded,
And sacrificed some drops of blood also-
but not dead when chopped.
Time passes more…
Now it gets too old and matured,
And the second part also is tested and used,
I visit some men of many heads like before…
I learned …..
Now I use only its bayonet like little part,
I kill whenever I intend….
Some who want to suicide search even for,
My weapon first….

But for future I am not so glad
What would its duty?
Memories or the use of its all parts
In different times.

R-sk nurul-2016