The Blessed Dead. ~ Tweedle Dee

I looked at her body with misty eyes and a heavy heart. There she lay in the sand, a mere child of eight. Condemned to the life of a slave since the day she was born, her soul was finally at peace by the merciful touch of death. In our circumstances death was a blessing to us and was what we all present here wished for more than anything else. Destined to be slaves all our petty lives, we welcomed death and in our eyes those dead were better off than the living. In a world like ours, where we are born to serve; are cursed to live through all atrocities imaginable; where man himself is our worst enemy, death is our friend, our saviour.

As I stood above her wiping my tears, a mixture of sorrow and relief flooding my heart, the wind blew the sand over her body like she had never existed. She would be remembered by no one but her family, and even they would soon forget her. In a world where losing twenty odd people each day was good news, it was hard to keep track of the dead. I muttered a quick prayer and walked away looking back once only to see a stretch of undulated sand. The shining sun made the sand shimmer like gold and gave the desert a deceptively beautiful sheen. At first glance the desert was the idyllic image of unsurpassed beauty. However, in reality, it held many terrible secrets under the surface. It was the burial ground of our dead. Slaves such as me were not given the honour of a proper burial; the desert was our graveyard.

“Owwww.” A stream of profanities slipped my lips as, for the second time in the past five minutes tears sprung to my eyes as I was brought back to my reality with a sharp kick in my shins that landed me sprawled on the sand. I squinted up to see Mustafa, one of our slave drivers, yelling at me to get up. Once on my feet I was sent to the ground again with a punch in my gut which made my inside’s squirm. Scrambling up again I whispered a quick apology through gritted teeth and limped back to my work station where I was given what felt like fifty tons to lug all the way across the desert to the city which was about ten miles away.

On and on we walked in a single file like a line of ants with heavy weights on our heads. If one collapsed, his load was transferred to the person next in line and his body was kicked away and left to rot in the sand. As my luck would have it, the lad in front of me was a frail boy who collapsed within the first few minutes and my load was doubled to the point where it really did feel as if my head would burst any second. With a blasting headache and the scorching sun adding to it I felt as if I could bear this no longer. As I walked my footsteps slowed and my body swayed. I tried to get back in control, tried to pick up my pace, but my body had a mind of its own and just refused to obey. Finally, after a lot of internal struggle my mind switched off and my body swayed violently before I fell to the ground with a shudder as the weights dropped from my head and the blood rushed in to my brain. Overwhelmed by the feeling of compete exhaustion I just let go. With an immense feeling of relief that this would finally all be over I felt tears rushing down my cheeks as darkness engulfed my world.

To Gain Wisdom - Tweedle Dum

There was once a man of much renown

Whose store of wisdom was said to have grown

To such a degree that was beyond comparison

And with it had grown love and compassion

Beauty and strength, and of course soon there came

With all these virtues success and fame

He lived a life of pleasure, one of great luxury

But never for one moment did he lose his humility

Though others denied it, he said he was no better

Than any other person, no cleverer, no greater;

The one thing that might set him above the rest

Was curiosity and learning, for which a burning zest

Had been, since childhood, his constant companion.

And that was his secret, his source of wisdom.

What we get to learn from this anecdote

Is that wisdom should lie at the end of each road

We chose in our lives; and that the road should be

Fraught with the key to learning, with curiosity

And if the road we choose should fulfill

The destination- wisdom, and fit the bill

For the path- curiosity then I proclaim

That on the way will be success and fame.

So thus, in short, is the moral of the story

The aim of our lives should never be money

Nor should it be the means to obtain

Such meaningless trifles as that fickle fame

Instead the only purpose of our journey

Should be that all-important curiosity

Which will then lead us to the home of wisdom

And will open the door and on the way in will come

Great knowledge; and on the way up the stairs

We shall meet with money, fame and success.

And when we finally reach that magical place

Wherein dwells wisdom, we shall come face to face

With God Himself;

What this meeting we have to do to earn

Is to always be curious and to strive to always learn.

The Music Stopped - Tweedle Dum

She fell limp in my arms

Her eyes closed shut

A sigh escaped her lips

And then the music stopped

I clutched her lifeless form

The girl whom i had loved

I could never love again

For now the music had stopped

Her sweet weight in my arms

A tear escaped my eye

I moaned but it was not enough

Because the music had stopped

I thought of all the times we had shared

I remembered her lips on mine

I thought: but thinking brought me pain

To realize the music had stopped

In the darkness all around me

She had been my one true light

But now the darkness would come again

For now the music had stopped

I ran my fingers over her face

I would feel those shapes no more

Her soft skin was hard; it was cold

Since after the music had stopped

I sank to my knees on the hard cruel ground

The tears began streaming down my face

How could she go? How could she leave me alone?

How could the music have stopped?

She had been an angel and I had loved her

But her God had called her back

She had been my life so why didn't I die?

Now that the music had stopped?

Light now dawned; the sun came up

But there was no light for me

She was gone and all light had gone with her

Gone! And the music had stopped

There were six billion people but they took her

Why couldn't they take my life?

Did they think I could live with her gone?

Live when the music had stopped?

I couldn't live, for my life had gone

She was all I had to live for

I would join her-my love, wherever she had gone

Gone when the music had stopped

She was still in my arms, a bullet in her head

Her killers had left a gun

I had no choice , there was no other way

Because the music had stopped

I left her on the ground and picked up the gun

There was just one bullet left

I didn't need any more; one was enough

One had made sure the music had stopped

The gun in my hand I stared at her form

At the form of the girl I had loved

I would join her soon, wherever she had gone

After the music had stopped

The gun at my head I closed my eyes

I paused and thought about my love

I remembered her kiss, the life in her eyes

Which had gone when the music had stopped

I pulled the trigger and the gun roared

I fell beside her on the ground

I stared at her face and clutched her hand

And then the music stopped.