The Casualty of your cruelity
You were the guardian who stood watch; gold and diamonds were given to your care.
Thou wast considered the master watcher, for no tale passed thee.
Dinar was the reward for thy workmanship, and kings gave you a place at their table.
A king offered you a diamond—the one after his heart—and said unto thee:
“Behold my diamond. I give thee wholeheartedly,
For I seek nothing much in return—only furnish my diamond into a gem and keep it.
I rejoice greatly, watcher, for in thy safe hands, a gem of my desire shall be furnished.”
Thou, O watcher, took the diamond into thy bosom.
Warmly and calmly, you held it.
Not even the dew of the night could touch her skin, for you feared what might happen.
You furnished the diamond into three pieces—the great one and its seeds.
Like a cleaner, you scraped off all her dirt. Pure and radiant were these diamonds.
You slept by their side and kept your night watch.
Thy eyes were swift, and your heart sealed in comfort.
For many years, not even the beauty of a sky-dweller could sway thee,
For you were captive to her beauty.
You swore to stay by her side till thy breath faded,
And no silver or gold could purchase your pride.
But as the saying goes: “The eye is deceitful.”
It convinces the heart through what it sees, and for him, anything that glitters is gold.
Thou, O watcher, stole a gem from the vault of the kings—
A pure emerald pearl you took.
Truly, it was stunning to behold. Like an enchantment,
You fell into her love and no longer wanted freedom.
Thy soul was stained,
And now your diamonds became a mere treasure to thee.
Your eyes faded to their beauty, and their presence became a curse to thee.
You said unto the great diamond:
“Get thee behind me, you who have no beauty.
Thy face is pale and I cannot stand in thy presence.
Only the emerald pearl I seek, for she calms the storms in me.”
Now, O watcher, you placed a burden on the heart of the diamond,
Yet you did not return her to her owner.
And in bitterness and tears, she ran with her seeds into the streets of men.
In hunger and pain, they slept in the cold night—
Tree branches were their blanket, and stones their pillow.
There, in the streets of men, her breath was cut off,
And her spirit lost to the other world.
Her seeds became wanderers in the streets of men.
Now I, the writer, seek thee.
My hands call for thy blood,
And my spirit longs to find thee in the other world.
One of her gems—his beauty—is fading.
What once held him as a sealed pearl is no longer of value to him.
But he was a good son—happy, and understanding was his heart.
Meek like a sheep, he obeyed each counsel of thee.
Love was his shelter and comfort.
But here, the love has waxed cold,
And to repay thee is what his heart cries for.
The king who gave thee his diamond now seeks for thee.
You hide in dark places,
Wishing for nothing but death and misery upon thyself, O watcher.
Your calmness has left thee,
And now the cry of birds frightens thee.
You are captive to the trumpets of kings
And believe they are coming for you.
How could you?
Why would you let thine eyes deceive you?
You threw thy diamonds into the old treasury
And wondered not what their fate would be.
Now thy own sons pursue thee.
Thou always sing to thyself a dirge,
For thou knowest thy time is due.
The meek heart has grown evil.
Guns and swords are what he plays with—like a child with his toys.
And mercy is his darkness.
Even I fear for thee.
Though I seek thy fall,
My heart does not wish thee to fall into the hand of the meek one.
You could have left her in the hands of her owner.
But you, O son of man, only wanted to be happy in her love for a time,
And afterward, you would seek what your heart desired.
Thy cruelty has caused these casualties,
And the burden is now upon thy head.
Copyright ©
Bismark Finley Mensah
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