A STRANGER IN THE NIGHT
A STRANGER IN THE NIGHT
Drenched to the core and shivering in the cold
The stranger, unknown, stood at her door,
With pleading eyes, he asked for help
For breathing, a while he begged for shelter
With Shivering thin hands and a warm smile
The old lady opened the door wide for him
Handed him a towel to dry, offered a sofa to sit
Thus, to relax in front of the bright warm fire
Time ticked on, she fed him warm food
Hungry, starved for days he gulped it all
Warm conversation too she continued with
As if the stranger was none but a friend
The rain stopped, and darkness covered everything
The stranger got up, stood and came close to her
Raised his hand, hit her hard on the head
She buckled down bleeding, but without a moan
As she watched quietly without even a gasp
He wiped the house of all its precious wealth
Throwing a glance of indifference, at her
His job done, out in the darkness he fled
The maid saw her bleeding the next morning
But the wounded lady told the story comely
In agony, the maid asked why not ring the bell
The emergency bell was kept for security.
In a trembling voice so soft, the old lady said.
“How can I arrest him? My own son, how could I?”
The puzzled maid in awe said, “Mam, your son died
Years back, in the dreadful war, and you know it”
Through her tears, she said, “Stranger was not my son
I knew it well, but he looked like my son, every inch
A few hours, though fantasy, I breathed, lived with him
That happiness with my dead son will be my bliss forever.