Was it I,
Hurt him, crushed him, killed him!
No!
Out of love I bathed him with
A colour in this colourful world
Not knowing the fanatical eyes which
Crookedly preferred to my cover of colour
Over his book of virtues,
Over his dream of laurels which
Gleams brighter than Sun.
The flawless painting of his righteousness
Ruinated by the colour I fortuitously added.
Was it I!
No!
Atrocity on the sea of Rampalian-Wretch
Sail! Every night! against the tempestuous.
Legendary leaders had legacy
Fighting against bigotry
Yet buried alive at the premise of equivalency.
As they rashly accuse me
Of making people look savage,
I pray Him to pluck me
Out of their intolerant eyes
Let them wander without sight
And be forever blind.
Wasn’t it them the same ones
Ruined the Great houses once! Derek!
The heinous prejudice strangled him
To death on the face of Earth.
But upon Heaven God’s hand
Now fondling his nape
There he carries his breath to breathe.
Atrocity on the sea of Rampalian-Wretch
Sail! Every night! Against the tempestuous
Every night! Every fight! Against the wizard of Uz.
kilk 
The title of the poem and the tribute to Floyd, convinces the readers on an elegiac read. Racism being a burning question for almost more than two centuries has taken its toll at different situations and different period of time. From the scratch of the building of the American society, racism has burnt millions of Afro Americans. When in a due course there has been some appeasement , the deep rooted hatred is ever to flare at any instigation. Floyd being the victim of one such flare has put millions across the world in a state of shock, anger and pity. The poet here has used all the three emotions to tune the tone of the poem. The tinge of shock and pity is layered under the camouflage of anger. Taking the skin as the subject for the poem, the poet has peeled out the colour of the coloured aversions that colours the entire American society, which is supposed to be a colourful state. The consolation that the poet offers is the current state of Floyd in the hands of God, which eventually is in heaven, whereas the poet also hints at the simmering hell of a world that burns black, brown, red and white creating chaos that will only see many more Floyds sailing up through the rampalian wretches.
A condolence that questions integrity and it’s eternity. Right tribute at the right time. Heart wrenching……
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Thank you for such review sir
It is always inspiring and encouraging.
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Wonderful poem, and very important especially in these times. Well done 👍🏼
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Thank you🙂
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