Letters

The room was large and dark

on the table was a lamp

which beamed upon a letter

didn’t know where it came from.

Her room, it was all mess

now everything was in it’s place

walked towards the table

and noticed the window open.

Closing the window, she sat

held the letter and numbered it.

smiling she pulled the drawer and

to the bunch of letters, added one more.

Letters from the oppressed

letters from the abused

letters from the victims

letters from the slaves.

Every letter felt damp

with the tears of those poor

and every letter empowered her

and made her much more stronger.

With the rising sun she stood

holding the bunch of letters

their smiles, she could feel

for she was set to fight for the dead.

NOTE : This is my first free verse

This is about a person who wants to fight for the dead. Even

the dead deserve justice.