3 Narrative Poems: The Man, the Window, and Jack’s Tale, and the Bearer of the Sharp Sword

1. man

Today’s world is not that big

how it used to be once

When man and beast were one with the trees

And no one was main.

But as the wheels of time rolled

The state began to change.

Because Man began to think that it was

The Master of that era.

And that’s when things started

go way downhill

Because no one dared to raise their voice

Against the Man Who Lived.

It was this self-esteem of Man

It was this self esteem

That led to this confusion today.

In everyone’s life.

The man thinks too much of himself

Even among his fellow Men

than to establish your domain

He stoops so low to kill them.

2. The window

Looking out the window, what do I perceive?

Wide fields and meadows, birds in mango trees.

A cow grazes here and there, chewing on the grass,

Sheep, goats and buffalo cross the land mass.

Looking out the window, what do I perceive?

Tall concrete buildings, dull and gray.

A car honks here and there, an engine whizzes by,

And if by chance I see a tree, it leaves me horrified.

Looking out the window, what do I perceive?

The destruction of my town and the shape of a city.

Instead of cart and bull, I see a car,

What has happened to my people, I don’t know who to ask.

Looking out the window, what do I perceive?

Heartbroken and teary-eyed the dreaded Metropolis.

I miss the fields and I long for the trees, but I can’t find any,

All I have today is smoke in my eyes.

3. The story of Jack, the bearer of the sharp sword.

When he opened his eyes one beautiful morning

Who did Jack see, if not the King!

“Oh Your Majesty,” he said as he bowed solemnly.

“Tell me, how could I make you proud?”

“Oh, Jack,” said the king with a sober brow.

“We need you in this distressing hour,

“The wall has fallen to the rival

“We urgently need you, for a revival!”

“Fear not, my King,” said Jack as he stood up.

‘Cause I’ll do my best

“And bring the Enemy back to his home

Among their own cowardly cries”.

So, saying that brave Jack put on his armor,

She sheathed her sword with no less glamor

And while the King and the people watched

Right into the battle, Jack had marched.

He cut off a head with his sharp sword

And another hand with the bloody sword

Until the Enemy fled in terror

Of Jack the Mighty, Bearer of the Sharp Sword!

The King was very pleased with Jack.

For saving the Kingdom with such a smack

The people were also less pleased

And before Jack got down on his knees.

The King gave Jack a bag of gold.

And he kissed her hand, behold!

Because if it hadn’t been for Jack that day,

The King would have been prey to the Enemy!