Shadowed Whiskers

By Ashira Niranjan M

Murky day depicted by the puddles that lay

Mist planning for a night's stay

Plants held remnants of the weeping clouds

Everything felt wrapped in shrouds

Against the flickering urban light

The beggar's sorry plight

Shadows twirling on the forlorn stage

Moonlight its lovely leverage

But then a soft splish broke my reverie,

Steps on the puddle creating a melody.

My sight catching something magnificent,

Expecting to see a beast so belligerent.

I noticed the eyes so childlike,

Demeanour mild-like.

A shadow with whiskers,

The nightlife and shadow seemed like sisters.

Eyes of the evergreen forest,

To describe I must call the metaphorist.

Fur like the never-dying night,

Words wouldn't suffice to write.

This lovely kitten,

Already had me smitten.

Ironic! —let me say,'

Cause I'd have normally looked away.

But there lay a piece in my mind,

That I tried to get aligned.

The lovely shadowy kitten,

Wasn't being compared only to cozy mittens.

Witches and potions, brooms and wands,

From the devil's layers it spawns.

I should be backing away,

That's what the priest would say.

Wherever it goes, shouldn't a cackle follow?

This thought makes me feel so hollow.

Feared by so many,

Fair reasons aren't plenty.

Its innocence makes me feel worse,

Treating it like a curse.

When it just wants our warmth,

And a place on this earth.

Do its eyes hold the witchcraft's sign?

Does it repel the divine?

Does its shadow hide more than it lets on?

Does it have evils that's banished by the dawn?

Does its each step constitute the devil's rein?

Why do we cause them so much pain?

Why do we hate them on something so baseless?

How could we all be so heartless?

By Ashira Niranjan M