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12- the dark horse

Shrisha was proud to show him off to people. He had the skills and the right attitude for her but he was not like that. He needed to be known to as few people as possible so he just kept trying to minimize his social contact as much as possible. So as days were rolling there was a poem competition at their college and being the kinda spontaneous person as she was, Shrisha popped Aryans name in the competition as a guest poet. He had no idea about that. The day of the competition came and people began to express their views into the world through poems. There was one and only one person who used slam poetry, name was Krijal. Krijal was a friend of Aryan too as they both shared the similar interest in poetry. In fact they even had written a combined poetry. Actually krijal had a little hand on enlisting Aryan’s name in the competition as he just wanted to see how Aryan does in front of crowd unprepared. Aryan was attending that competition as a viewer when his name suddenly popped up. “…and for today’s guest performance, we have Aryan Shakya from class ME-first year. A round of applause for him please” the announcer said.
He was dumbfounded but he was never without his trusty pen, copy and his bag so he just took out that copy which was full of poems and began turning pages. He paused for a brief moment every now and then and analyzed some of his poems. Then he stopped at a page, marked it and began walking towards the stage. He took the mike off the stand and began…
“so I am totally unprepared for this cause I was not the one who enlisted my name into this program. My dumb friend or let’s say friends did that so I know who did that but as my name’s already here, I’m just gonna give a poem that I wrote a while back. So here’s how it goes…
Chaos
I see people everywhere
but some of them stare
into the abyss and
hold on to the hand
of darkness
and caress
what little hope that they have
somebody needs to save
them people from
the monsters that they have become
the creatures of the dark
so scary that even the dog’s afraid to bark
at them
but it’s all the same for them
they have lost all the hope in this game
called life
and they have dead fish’s eyes despite
being so full of stories untold
they remain in the cold-
ness of the society
yea I’m talking about the outcasts
those whose scream lasts
for eternity in this vast
world, they remain unheard
even if they blast
off from the world
they are the wallflowers
just wanting to be loved
waiting for someone to pop
their nut of chaos
waiting for someone to be their ray of hope
-Roi de Scuro

“this poem is not written by me though! it’s written by Roi de scuro. Now ya’ll must be wondering who the hell is this roi de scuro right? It’s just my pen name. Peace ya’ll. This is me signing out” with these words Aryan leaves the stage leaving everyone dumbfounded.

- Yakaa: Jujaan
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