Poem by Syedah Maryam Iqbal
He was not killed but imprisoned,
From childhood to maturity.
His imprisonment haunted him,
As the unseen started visiting him.
He listened to voices known and unknown, living and dead,
Alarming him about the lurking dangers outside the bars.
He cried and cried,
But his cries fell on deaf ears.
Although now an adult, but still a child,
Hoping to have mercy of others,
Always frightened of coming death,
But he already met death in life,
The room was his grave all those years.
He accepted his captivity and chains.
His only blunder was his eligibility to be a king.
Maddened, maddened, maddened,
Because of his loneliness and desolation,
Filled with the thoughts of seeking vengeance,
But always inactive, only brooding,
He spent all the time being ruled.
When the odds turned in favor,
His chains were unlocked,
But his foreignness to the external world deserted him more,
He hugged life in death.