Reflections on Frankenstein: Poetry

Reflections on Frankenstein: Poetry
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*Reflections on Frankenstein*

So I heard a lot about Frankenstein
The Doc who created the Demon
That wrecked earth
Brought hell down in mirth…

But now I’ve read a lot about Frankenstein
Victor, was the Doc actually
The other name was but a heritage from Dad
Indeed, he lived up to his name
…at first at least;
He advanced beyond those in his midst
He assembled the dead and created life

Little did he know
that the victory which he sought with passion
Would be the ruin of him…or was it?

For his creature was one of reason
Capable of much virtue
Loved in spite of betrayal
By those he treasured as protectors

Verily, they, whose company
Though stolen, gave him joy
Whose sorrows were as much arrows to the heart
As his abandonment by his own creator
They, who named him good spirit
In appreciation of his grave benevolence
They were the same who turned against him:
Felix, the happy
Agatha, the good
Safie, the wise
Indeed the best of human race
Were blinded by sight.
Their good spirit, became their monster
And they flew from him.
He, despised, like the Messiah
Because there was no comeliness to admire

Yet still, he saved the young girl
And his reward was another betrayal
This time in the form of a bullet to the hideousness
That was his shoulder.
And a poison of hate
Towards the humankind that gave him life.

I once thought that justice
Had solely the colour of Tom-Tom…
White and black.
Good and evil.
Fair and Unfair.
Right and Wrong.
But the more I reflect on society
I realise that Justice may possess as its own
The full spectrum of the rainbow.

For when we think of the monsters
The carriers of the most hideous crimes
The Hitlers, the Husseins, the Bin Ladens
We only see the evil they wreak
But why, I may ask
Are we blind to the evils that created them so?


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