Road To Nowhere...An Autobiography Of A Terrorist. - Poem by Mohit Sharma
On a pile of debts I took a premature birth,
They left me soon and gone somewhere far from this earth,
I grew up alone in that shady alley with less than ordinary worth.
On a verge of this globe that is full of hatred,
My soaring dreams hatched with that utmost urge to get fade,
Within the hands of many, my existence often got preyed.
On the streets of my childhood, I began learning in misery
They offered me haunted teachings, full of unknown faith free
And roots of my notion began to flourish, to hold my chaotic hatred tree.
And the day came when I first met with those innocent eyes,
Emotions erupted and expressed within that moment disguise,
Those days were astonishing, when with no wings I can dare to fly.
Amid the beginning and end, it was end who dominate
My love deceived me and lost abruptly in dark to get fade,
At last I’ve left with the word ‘Love’ as a synonym of ‘Hate’.
My life’s road was long and destination undefined,
Those chilly nights were cruel and my dusky days blind,
Into me when they incubated seeds of ‘Jihad’, the divine.
They tortured me up till those limits, where humanity ought to fade
To train me how to liberate terror for which I suppose to get paid,
It was the moment I first realized that, “Devils are not born they are made”.
On that untoward dusky evening, amidst a crowded track,
I killed myself through, with thousand others in a suicide attack
On that road to God’s place, the mournful soul of mine never looked back.
I always desired to set myself free but not at all in this way,
Where my soul left with guilt and debt of those innocent lives to pay,
“The true meaning of Jihad is within your innerself”, is what thy holy Quran say.
Now those blood soaked cold ruins of mine are lying here and there,
With that obvious guilt, agony, insolence and abysmal care,
Thus, my life concluded in the midst of that deserted road to nowhere…
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