A Voice From Sachangwan

Just years ago, we stole the limelight,
Set newsrooms on fire, tears rolling,
We gave tongues what to speak.

There had been a tragedy, and it was big I say,
When our brothers and sisters,
Who had come to harvest the spoil,
Ran away ablaze, and all we could remember them with,
Was their ashes.

Then it was a lesson to be learnt,
But it happened again.

I nurse wounds, serious burns to be precise,
I was nursed by the oily tongues of flames,
From the oily tank of death.

I could not resist the urge to siphon just a little,
Though I fought with my inner self,
Memories of the last tragedy lingered,
But my stomach rumbled, dragged my feet forward.

I looked down at the fallen truck,
Like a disarmed hunter at the edge of a cliff,
Staring at a hungry bear, waiting for its turn to pounce.

The police wouldn't allow us to siphon just a few drops,
I knew it was a protective measure to my life,
Theirs, and my neighbours' too,
But I saw it as being mean to my stomach,
Where would I get supper for today?

Then all of a sudden.....
I can't  really remember what happened,
But as sure as I can blink, I got burns,
Yes, it was my fault, yet neither was it my fault.

Let me nurse my burns,
But if my barn was full,
then my mind would have thought straight