By Akbar Fida

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Hurt through pen and spear,

Sleeping with joyless tear,

Trying to fight with all its fear,

There once was a boy, who lacked joy and cheer.

All was fine, until he cared for the line,

The innocent line, always silent and hesitant,

For the prey it caught, and the divine

And the mistake he made, left him repentant.

After all these times, the line finally broke,

Freed it’s pray, leaving behind a harsh taste and smoke,

The boy sat in his chair, leg missing and saw

The struggle for one breath, the fight between life and death,

Realizing it’s all just a flawed and futile law.

“Flawed! Why flawed?” asked the sea with a heavy shore,

“Been sitting here for hours”, said the boy without tears of joy,

“And yet the one I caught got smoked from my core.”

Seeing the boy said the sea with a windy tone,

“Don’t give up now, for I have more lines to loan, 

After each fails, I’ll give you another divine”.

The boy got restless, desperate for the living sea,

Failed to see what was waiting, and what was going to be.

“Wait Lee, come back! For now, it’s not too late.”

But it was, as fate did not wait.

Lost his pray, long gone from his sight.

“What a regret!” he cried, “what a shameful way to plight!”

 Far from his hive.

With every pale and blue,

Filled with fear, screaming, and the only question remaining,

“What am I to do?”

“Get up poor lee, grab the line.”

Turned to see the sight of God near the pine.

Reached his arm to be a bait,

There was nothing else left to debate.

Too bad the line once again broke,

and like a worrier he fought in vain,

For the last time, he saw a glimpse of the rod,

Holding it was two dark figures, one being Beth, and the other himself;

With sharp fangs and long, dark claws, ready for the final nod.