THE GREEN GLASS PANE

The Green Glass Pane

When I was a young lad, I got a new flat, on the seventh floor,

The flat with a nice room and stairs to small attic, and a with wooden doors.

There was one window which showed me the world and the morning bright,

The window by which I drooled on flashing city lights, night after night after night.

When the world around was nice and quiet and everyone looked sane,

When the door was strong and I sat along near the window ,with the green glass pane.

The days were passing swiftly as the air around was brisk,

The night were soothing altogether and occasionally there were mist,

The sky was clean and when the moon sheen, I thought I lived in Eden,

I wondered what the stars felt when they sparkled and startled I even.

When the world around was nice and quiet and everyone looked sane,

When the door was still strong and I sat along near the window, with the green glass pane.

A year later, now, I wonder how the sky has gone so red,

When I wake up in morning, I hear only the sirens, as If the birds are dead,

Smoke more smoke and smoke it is, galloping around in sky,

I waited and waited, looked as far I could but no bird, no clouds pass by.

When the world around had gone dark and quiet and everyone looked in pain,

When the door was strong and I sat along near the window, with dirt on the green glass pane.

As I look down now, I wonder how the city fell prey to the sick and evil,

The fights, the riots, the politics, the frights, all as if medieval,

As my life is my home and I want to keep it per se,

Better if cleaned from blood and violence, deaths and dismay.

When the world around had gone dark and noisy and everyone suffered in pain,

When the door was growing weak and I sat along near the window, with dirty green glass pane.

One morning I woke up, as the shouts were so loud, make heavens fall asunder,

Hundreds and thousands on the street as if the world went roaring voices as thunder,

I don’t know who stroke the nail first but the echo never seemed to stop,

As men and women, old and the children, drenched into blood, drop by drop.

When the world around had gone dark and wild and everyone injured or insane,

When the door was going week and I stood near the window, with blood on the green glass pane.

The other morning I felt tremors and I ran for the door but couldn’t find one inside,

There men in my flat, some whom meant harm and I ran hard to hide,

With not many hope I looked at the top and found the attic with stairs,

I hid inside, as they ransacked my home, and I couldn’t even dare.

When the world around had gone dark and wild and everyone was insane,

When the door was gone and I hid in the attic, far from the green glass pane.

When they ran away, I reached down only to find the ruins and leftover,

The door broken, the window shattered, made me feel like a rover,

I gathered whatever was left and moved on the streets, as there was nothing to weep

With stray dogs around, lying on the ground, I slowly went to sleep.

When the world around had gone dark and barbaric and I was found dead on a lane,

With a key of the door in my blood red hands and a piece of the green glass pane.