The Man on the Bridge

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The sun had set,
The moon was rising,
And the stars were
Taking formations.

As I walked down the
Lonely road, with no
Light but the fireflies,
I looked away into the
Expanse beside me.

A green land full of roses,
Huge tress with huge trunks,
Full of patches of golden sweetness.

As I walked on,
I felt the warmth of
The air, telling me
Winter is still a long time.

I scurried along the road,
Trying not to fall and
Make it in time for a show.

The bridge, a fine piece of
Wood and craftsmanship,
My penultimate stretch,
The Bridge, where strange
People witness strange sightings.

A river ran beside it,
Illuminated by the fireflies,
A figure ran from the
Shore ,oblivious to the
Beauty beside him.

As he ran towards me,
I gazed at his face,
Old, wrinkled, horrified,
His lips cut in spots,
His nose deformed and
Eyes white and soulless.

“They are coming”, he screamed,
Jumping frantically, he hit
His head on the wood.
“I’m bleeding, I’m bleeding”,

As he moved around, I
Grappled him , whispering,
“They’re not coming,
Because they already have”,
And let go of him.
He moved a few paces,
Eyes full of disbelief, watery,
Red drops fell on the ground
As he jumped into the
Black beauty, ruining its
Perfection for eternity.

As the fireflies circled around,
I moved on, laughing,
Wondering if I will catch the
Show on time.


An old poem, inspired by “The Scream” on suggestion of a friend. Feels great reading this again after almost four years!
Hope everyone enjoys it as well!
Happy Reading!

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2 thoughts on “The Man on the Bridge

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