Lorot Son of the Hills' Apology

I am having a crazy schedule nowadays. My apologies for that. Something triggered me today to remember something I wrote sometimes back in my other blog, Lorot Son of the Hills. Now, here's my own version of a defence I put up for 'corrupting' the sons and daughters of the hills. I had been 'condemned' to die and  I had to put up one hell of a defence. I had read up Socrates' Apology and this that I have written mirrors my own imagined set of facts.

In my defence, I write:

My Lords, poets are a gift from God. They are the music of the world. They are the reason of the world. For poets dissect into the human soul to expose the malignant tumours which men don’t see and which ordinary eyes ignore. Poets are the paintbrushes that stroke the future in so vivid terms that they are close to us even when they are in the distant future. And you don’t see many poets. True poets speak to the society, they bear the message. And they are hated all around them. Many are killed. Many are hunted down and tortured and eventually die slowly.

At the end of my defence, I finish thus:

If I be condemned to die, I request a small favour from you. Let my children be never taught poetry. Let them be never told about the tales of the hills. Let them be denied all the links they had with their father. Let them not be corrupted by my teachings, let them not be the consumers of distorted truth and sentimentality. Let my grave not be marked. Let me die in oblivion. No tears should be shed. No regrets should be borne. Let my children steer clear from the corrupt nature of their father lest they be accused of ‘corrupting’ other youths. Let my poetry die and the tales of the hills be forgotten and shunned. Let it not be remembered. Let me be ridiculed and mocked by you my accusers and never should you, 10 years, 20 years, 50 years, 100 years from now ever change your minds about now for I am a bad person, a poison to the society. I stand accused and condemned before you men and I am ready to die. Grant my wish. See you in the Hereafter, sons and daughters of the hills. I am done. I am peaceful. Let justice be met.

You could read the whole defence here.

Your poet,
Lorot Son of the Hills