Derelict

There, in our village, even today exists, A derelict bungalow which is in suspense lists; No village folk, its true history knows, The eldest, through tales, knowledge shows; Some, during British colonial times, who came here, Did not go back to their nation, out of sheer fear, That they might not be considered one among them, Will be treated, instead, like a rootless stem; They lived here as though it were their homeland, And indulge in luxuries that were so grand; One by one, they went to the earth of their birth, All believed that there under they lived in great mirth; There was only one man survived in the end, His hair had grown silver; his head and shoulder bent; Once, lo, he too kicked the bucket, at last, And, none knew, why he was buried very fast; It was his wish before his death, some said, Others, in their way, have other stories did spread; All, young or old, assumed one belief in common, As though it were the most believable phenomenon; That he, as a ghost, lived bungalow bound, And attacked any creature that roamed around...! 08 February 2023