An Ant
written by: Miss Kanishka
Rising with the sun, I heard birds fight
Some for the accent, some for a light.
Gazing through the looped quilt
I caught an ant’s sight.
Its frail legs quiver, its thorax heaves,
Mirroring my quiescence, it grieves.
More cold, less life,
I witnessed its soul rise high.
The icy zephyr then tickled my nose;
Feeling cold, I tucked myself more.
At 8 am, when the heat rose, I woke, but little thought
What sorrow, subconsciously, it had bought.
It’s not the ant’s demise that wounds my core,
But the act itself, a burden to abhor.
Turning off the repellent, I swapped the body outside.
But little did I know, behind the curtain, its family rested alike.
No, not all souls tread the path to divine sanctuary,
Some couldn’t leave, some shivered in contrary!
Today, I awoke to realize with clarity,
Sans demise, neither science, nor beauty, nor vitality.
“A sin is a sin, whether you kill an ant or a human”
What do you think? Is it transgression or an illusion?
Daily, we tally myriad lives, our hands stained,
Are we murderers, or mere organisms, constrained?
- Frozen Spring - August 22, 2024
- An Ant - March 23, 2024
- Driving My First Pay - July 11, 2022
