Mitron!

I have achieved what most men can only desire.
My throne perches high, above all, safe and secured.
My people! Look how their faces twist in ecstasy,
when I wave my arms and spear their hearts with my words.

Their mouths open in a soundless cry,
my magnificence leaving them speechless.
Such is my grandeur; such is my power!
My people, my dear people – what they wouldn’t do for me.

I see smoke rising, darkening the sky.
The stench is unbearable. Oh, what a nuisance!
The dense fumes carry wails with them,
ear-splitting cries of agony;
how am I supposed to address my people amidst such clamour?

They must be from the foes; false, synthetic and choked with lies,
incessantly trying to undermine my splendour.
I must now take leave of my beloved subjects,
they will be upset and bereft, but I know they want what I do;
they must, for I am Supreme, unlike anyone!
I am the king of this great nation,
a nation of monsters and ghosts.

Zainab Siddiqui is a student who loves poetry and hopes to amplify the voices that are weak and go unheard.

Featured image credit: Pariplab Chakraborty