Sestina: A Warrior

Personal Statement

I wrote this in the Introduction To Literature class. In the class, we studied different poetic forms, including the sestina. Sestinas use six different ending words, which appear in a different order in each stanza according to a specific pattern. I decided to use this form to write about animal abuse, hoping that other people will be inspired to care more about this problem.

Sestina: A Warrior

The poem is dedicated to a brave wandering cat — who died last month after being brutally abused for three days by a sadist named Jack in China. The cat was tied up for three days without food and water, his claws were pulled out, he was beaten, he was put in a blender, and he was put in a microwave oven to be roasted to death (I cannot help crying as I write this). The cat may have never had a full stomach or a warm hug in his whole life, and he tried his best to live. The “weapon” in the poem refers to the animal protection law. We are all disappointed that China has never promulgated an animal protection law so that countless wandering animals will not be guaranteed their lives. Grieving and angry because of this incident, many people have rallied for the cat, calling him a warrior.

A Warrior

We have all seen your bravery,
though we still cry.
Your snarls
made you become a warrior.
How we wanted to give you gentle strokes,
wanted you to be willful.

You have never been willful.
Daily wandering takes bravery
to forage, must desire gentle strokes
and secretly cry.
But you had to be a warrior,
to use your snarls.

“Jack” indulged in unbridled snarls.
He is willful
to believe himself a righteous warrior.
Many demons gave him murky bravery
to make tender hearts cry
and deprive you of gentle strokes.

How I wish that gentle strokes
could calm your inner fear and snarls.
After three days of torment, your despair and cry
drifted. All your life, you never could be willful.
You could not use your armor – bravery –
against the twisted warrior.

O you grievous warrior,
you never should have dreamed of true, warm strokes!
Sometimes, the bravery
to swallow snarls
cannot barter a victory, although it may be willful
and silence your cry.

Please don’t cry.
Because everyone is a warrior
without weapons. What we cannot fight is the willful
devil’s false strokes,
which fill our lives with snarls.
We will always give each other bravery.

How miserable it is, this world that taught you bravery
but left you disappointed — this world that lets me cry
with loneliness, to turn into a warrior.