Poems by
Sayan Chaudhuri

The Martyr

a poem by Sayan Chaudhuri

As the last drop of blood
Trickles from the martyr’s bosom
On the virgin petal of the unsuspecting blossom,
It is impured by crimson grief;
The earth, the skies
Bestowed with overwhelming purity,
Echoes with thunderous relief.

The flag of freedom slowly ascends
From the halyard of sacrifice,
Anguish descends to its necessary death;
The wings of poesy take flight,
The songs of beauty
Encompassing the valley of life,
Rings with intense might.

A distant speck of dust
Dirties the impeccable whiteness.
A horde of half-humans
Crude enough to be beasts,
Stand strangely with blurred eyes.
The tears of hatred dissolve into love
The evil splurges out of their hearts,
The fangs dismantle, the knives extirpate.
It is the beginning of a new epoch…

The myriad crown of joy,
Is now firmly bound
Unwilling to sway, willing to spread.
The mild breeze of unrestrained mirth,
Fluxes through untouched depths.
And life is in a stupor of serenity.
It is humanity’s rebirth…

But the martyr is now strangely obscure,
Buried beneath the depths of renaissance
He has selflessly infested.
The epitaph is remarkably glorious,
Unremarkable is its loneliness.
Humanity basking in new found glory,
And delightful stories,
Forgot to praise the giver..

The sun lowers itself below the horizon,
Leaving the light worthless…
A crumb falls from a child’s mouth,
Making the wheat vile…
Sacrifice melted misery,
Bestowed joy,deepened love
But it is love that finally betrays,
Deserting the martyr in oblivion’s isle…