The Last Hour | Teen Ink

The Last Hour

September 11, 2012
By Creatorbuff_97 BRONZE, Chennai, Other
Creatorbuff_97 BRONZE, Chennai, Other
2 articles 0 photos 1 comment

Favorite Quote:
You have enemies? Good. That means you've stood up for something, sometime in your life
-Winston Churchill


THE LAST HOUR
A life which started with enigma,
All set to end up with a formal farewell,
Inside the dark oblong dungeon,
Ding...dong...my life departs, in harmony with the prison bell.

My last wish, was to rewind my thoughts to my last living hour,
And by lo! I was granted it!
My last chance to realize my follies and unravel
The preposterous way I had fallen into a repugnant pit.

Once I had a name, now I have a number;
Quite ironic that this was grumbled by Jean Val jean,
He at least had the Bishop of France,
But I have no one’s shoulder on my side to lean.

I loved the thrill,
Of dealing with drugs,
But all the response I got,
Were men pretending to averse it before their nosy halves with boorish shrugs

I loved the thrill,
Of dealing with heavy bucks,
But I got nothing of them,
When I got into deals with bloody rich, old, and dreadful ducks.


I loved the thrill,
Of playing with women,
When gruesome heavy boyfriends knock my door,
Now that’s a bad omen!

I hated the letter ‘D’, I don’t know why,
But insisted people on calling me evil,
Rather than the old hysterical church priests,
Who annoyed me by calling me a ‘little ‘D’evil’!

An another surprising part of me,
Of being ludicrously obsessed, with black and white films,
Where the hero hails and the villain dies,
Just in case to put the good tricks into my realm.

Even the autumn has its own fall,
So does the sun,
But not a day had I expected,
The police standing at my door step with a grinning gun.

That was the time I came to the hell,
Sometime, before eight or nine years, I guess,
Hey! Don’t overrate my age,
It’s just forty and less.



Over the years,
I was leading just a robotic life,
But outside, everyone were laying plans for me
Gulp...my throat owes their knife

God had his own deal -with a set of his messengers, the jury,
With a crystal clear answer in their look,
I automatically understood what that meant,
They were going to stop the ever – gushing brook!

As I replayed the part of my life,
I did not realize much,
But what I felt very funny and overwhelming,
Was that no one was as liberal as the Dutch!

For all the years,
I had worshipped thrill,
But today I face the worst kind of scenario,
Where I am the helpless toast behind the rusty grill.

For all the time of my youth,
I had no wife,
Who could have kindly and lovingly taught me,
The importance of leading a very righteous life.



All I could pray at my last moment,
Was, not to be born again, to be a mere suspect,
‘To err is human’ and mistake cannot be undone, but
At least be born next time, to gain noble reputation and respect.

Willing to repay in the future for being a terrible fish,
God, did you hear my last wish?
-
The sentenced prisoner


The author's comments:
This explores the late enlightenment, feelings of a prisoner, who is given a last chance to analyze his personal mistakes made in life and repents for all the wrong deeds accomplished at the near end of death

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