Autobiography of a Knife

Snuggled in a sack all packed and dark.
My metal gleamed white and sharp.
Illuming innards for us friends to mingle,
As we joined our master on his junket to jungle.

As the troop halted and camped for the night,
I was summoned on the scene for my might.
Skinned shallot and spinach and snake gourds too.
Played my part in feeding the crew.

Inscribed initials on a barren bark,
Leaving signs of sojourn to this park.
Heading back home all marched along.
A detour decision proved to be wrong.

Miserably mislaid. Environ hostile;
With me they flayed, vermin vile;
Shrews and snakes on the poisonous path,
All smitten by my valorous wrath

Famished for food were the unfed.
As the hapless horde moved ahead.
Energy exhausted, my master weakened.
His uncaring companions felt brutally burdened.

A fellow friend took me from my master,
Pretext of preventing any damning disaster.
Separated from skipper and a second later,
Possessed by a poseur I turned a traitor.

A devilish design the scoundrels schemed.
Versus my will took me in their team.
Stabbed in the stomach my skipper I slay.
Others fed on the flesh of my commander's clay.

Was I a villain in a saviour's disguise?
Or a traitor who caused his master's demise?
Served with a purpose all life long;
Cast as a sinner for someone else's wrong.

Unkind, unfair, the world we live in;
Though pure at heart yet we sin.
Enslaved by circumstances beyond you and me;
I am not the devil I am made out to be.
.
.
.
I beg of you.
Please do not judge me

- Himanshu