walk on

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Mystery and Crime  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: June 02, 2017

A A A | A A A

Submitted: June 02, 2017



“Short Story”

Walk on

”I”! Did you know, I said: “I”! Standing on, looking to the long desert place, have I ever been here questioning myself? YES! NO! This double sided answer confused me. Yes! True, they are right. They have their arguments, full of freedom, liberty and without lockdown. No! False, they have their arguments, full of narrowness, deeply conservative and bond to lockdown.

Lay down, carelessly on the ground. I am a young lad, looking for the joys and cheerful moments of life. Here and there; love, hatred and the murmuring nature of drinking and aesthetically attached to body, what! So on…. This is my world- a world of fancies and imagination. No one, shake it. I have created it. I am the creator. I am the Master. Not a slave, slave to you, slave to him, slave to her, slave to them. Barbaric voices cried from behind as approached me, kill him! Kill him. He is heretic. All of them were faithless by the faith, I swear! who knows.

Far and long I don’t see quite anything clear only pale sand as the poor man is being attacked by Tuberculosis. Hush! This wind, rhythm of the birds whistling sound like army forces are ready to war. Hotly sun was running on equator, no shrubs, no plants and no trees. Look! How I am free. This tedious deed had last long sixty years of life like a fairytale.

I am tired but my wings oh yes my wings! They are strong and are full of strength to boast me up. This cool atmosphere but what to be! I am afraid, afraid of my wings to be melted. How now! The evening is approaching; I am looking for the direction to fly where, when and why? Did they will crucify me or burnt me alive? Hey! Silent! Keep your tongue on knife, here’s stretching words fight. Priests, Archbishops and monks don’t know the ivory and trunk.

Shivering and trembling like a maid peasant girl dancing my body with shriek. Gurgling like agony spirits tumult in some grief. WOW! A child am I. lonely starved by dark, light never I have seen a spark. Myths! I know the word walk! But don’t know the essence meaning why to walk. I am blind……. Am I? No! I say! No! But yes! I am by surrounding.

This mud black and white, many colours there have right. Terror, War and Blasphemous killing, oh horror to honor killing; what a TOY, human a TOY! Yes but why? Shaping and reshaping and making so high. God forbid, I suggest the words made only concept crib.

Walk on! Swords, knives and axes, this land bend on sexes! Pray and prey to get out of ray. Poverty, starvation and rape! What I watched, looked and seen. Walk on! Walk on! It’s Blood bold smell like devil’s brain juice. Where I have to walk on? Where I have to walk on! HELP! Astray! Pray! Suddenly from the peak of mountain I walked on…….


Author: D Wisal Ahmad ANsaar #Maddy

© Copyright 2019 Wisal Ahmad (Dwaa Mady). All rights reserved.

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