Rebel Poet

One day he will sing his song.

And words will drip from his lips,

Ripened with strength.

Strong plants will grow from the seeds

His aging hands are sowing.

He will hold your broken hand

In his mouth like a wolf,

Then tell you what you write is admirable.

He will spin a mountain out of the dust

Your bones have turned into.

Then tell you what you are made of is intense.

And when an oak tree will stand proudly

While flaunting its branches,

He will be its long roots, sinking into the earth.

He will slither to his home deep within the ground

While growing far more

Than the oak tree.

And when he will sit on his throne inside the earth,

One lingering fox will wonder

What's saving the tree from wilting.

Just like an unruly mob wonders

How a poet can hold their feet captive

While writing from a cave.

The writer is a grade 11 student of Birshreshtha Noor Mohammad Public College.