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Isaac Pulpit Poem
STARS FROM PLUTO
Stars from Pluto, falling on earth,
Strangers are they on our planet.
No honor or salute to the dirtied star –
That was once a diamond in the sky.
But few years ago they were our treasure,
In their lights we counted our pleasure.
Gracious they were, oh’ blinking stars,
Blinking, and blinking and shining the sky.
Now they are nothing after their falling,
But the children once in the nights were calling –
“Twinkling, twinkling, twinkling little stars –”
They say, “How I wonder how you are”
So are life and its program,
Ancient songs sang without a slogan.
The well that once quench our thirst,
It’s now dirtied by us in time of test.
The warriors that bled for us in the past,
Are forgotten in our histories at last.
Armies who spent their lives in caves –
Trampled, shuttered and locked in graves.
Birds which long sang on our mountains,
We’ve burned their nests and cut their curtains.
No more value for their wise messages,
Neither do we recall their nice melodies.
But these were once stars of our Pluto.
In the graves their voices still echo.
Oh’ twinkling, twinkling little stars –
You were like a diamond in the sky.
Horrific, horrific, they once cried,
Whiles their bodies were hanged, dried.
What at all were their wrongs and fault?
But their sacrifices have been at naught.
Was it in vain, that these stars fell from the sky?
That they left their abode and their ply.
They were the treasures on their planet.
Until they died and fell in our nests.
Heroes, heroes, we call them,
But we have depraved their loving ken.
Their inventions are seen to be archaic,
And what they bled to invent are now fake.
Run, nun, run for your lives, they shouted.
As their foe’s ambush is set, they panted.
Mercy, mercy, they called for freedom,
Their burden was to fight for their kingdom.
As I sat to think on these, there comes a tear,
For generations afore, they must fear!
On our planet here, living has no reason,
They that fight for change are seen treason.
Stars from Pluto, they were our leaders,
Like Newton, Aristotle, and Einstein.
These were selfless, men of inventions,
Now their works are matched with superstitions.
Let’s walk to their graves, and pay a tribute,
To the armies their bones need our salute.
Will it not be needful for our generations to hear?
That these stars from Pluto were once here.
Copyright © Isaac Pulpit | Year Posted 2018
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