The Fishermen

“One shall always be strong,” His words swung with the cold air, “One shall always believe,” It was like the waves were Strengthening his tone and words, There he lay on the big rocks That hid him by the shore, He contemplated the beautiful Prospect; It all made him feel alive at the moment, The droplets of water Tenderly slithered on his skin, Like cure to an illness; His pain was diminishing, The fire of hatred was being Extinguished, For the first time in his life, He felt optimistic, It was the first time for him to use “Half-full” and not “Half-empty,” To him, it was a life-changing moment, Thoughts continuously rushed In and out of his head, Reminiscences and past-experiences Came back to relive a beautiful moment With him… A moment of “Life” “If I were…” he whispered, “If I were a f..i..sh…” He mumbled what he wanted to say… “If I were a tiny fish that swam freely across the ocean, would I be free? Or would I just be the bait to some other fish? Would all these fishermen take my freedom away? Taking me out of the water till I suffocate? Shall my life end because of them fishermen?” He said indignantly, He was filled with rage. “Would I always live my life with no one’s sympathy? Just me…” His tears started falling, For he took out all his hidden pain, He faced reality again, And stopped his denial… After minutes of sorrowful-confusion, He stared at the sky again… Whispering, “O’ fishermen, When will y’all ever come and get me?”