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Axis & Allies - damowords

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Canto 3<br />

The Poet’s journey round India<br />

From Plassey to Mumbai<br />

Bus Crash<br />

I awoke in a strange, white‐sheeted bed,<br />

Fellow passengers moaning in sevʹral ways,<br />

Soakʹd in blood & clutching a concussʹd head<br />

I stumbʹld to a taxi in a daze!<br />

ʺDriver, just drive!ʺ<br />

I fled that hospital<br />

Lucky to be alive, the crash had been fatal.<br />

Why am I in a strange white bed,<br />

Woke by moans to my amaze,<br />

Bags lying by my concussʹd head,<br />

Stumbling out in blood‐soakʹd haze,<br />

In old, odd rickshaw off I sped<br />

Such are our brave young days,<br />

Though fill of life oftentimes we feel faint<br />

When thunder breaks & goddesses our saint<br />

King falcons of Britain, your chief song I fashion<br />

Your chief praise I bear:<br />

I’ll act as your bard, your judge<br />

Your support, it befits me<br />

I took a room to convalesce<br />

Mid palatial surrounds,<br />

I was a mess, for more or less<br />

A week of sleeps & sounds,<br />

Until half‐healʹd I took the sights, great palaces & grounds.<br />

Murshidabad<br />

Cynddelw Brydydd Mawr

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