Five sat around a corpse, each with a tale to spin.
Five sat around a corpse, to find the assassin.
The first of the five was a big burly cop.
He’d found the body by the lake,
The sight, more ghastly than he could take.
The second was a ferryman.
He’d had a nasty shock.
He had found a gleaming knife hidden in the dock.
The third girl was a seamstress.
She’d heard the victim’s cry.
And just a while before that, she’d seen him passing by.
The fourth, a poor woodcutter,
Armed with a rusty axe.
He’d spoken to the dead man over his evening snacks.
The last man was a merchant.
He owned a chemists’ shop.
The victim was his customer, he’d bought an eye drop.
The cop had known the victim,
He took a ruthless stance.
He said a man attached to crime didn’t deserve a second chance.
The ferryman bowed his head, said he wanted the victim dead.
He then let out a smirk,
Said the victim was berserk.
The seamstress joined the wagon,
She called the man a fiend.
She claimed he’d drunk a flagon, his character she demeaned.
Next came the wood cutter,
He took a gentle stance.
He said blaming the victim would not help them advance.
The merchant, he agreed,
He let out a sorrowed sigh.
He said the others’ stances were nothing but a lie.
The five then departed,
They swore to come the next day.
To finish what they started, in a more professional way.
Five sat around a corpse, but all that lived were four.
The cop sat frozen still, a scene of deathly gore.
The seamstress let out a scream.
She gripped the merchant’s arm.
She looked at her companions, all frozen in alarm.
The ferryman spoke first.
He made a ghastly claim.
He said, for the murders, one of them was to blame.
The other three sat stunned.
Their faces pale as wax.
And then beside the cop, they found a bloody axe.
The woodcutter shrank back.
His eyes glistened with fear.
And with a trembling hand, he wiped away a tear.
The ferryman then stood up,
He motioned for a hand.
He lifted the dead cop and carried him off the land.
The wood cutter wept softly,
The seamstress clutched his arm.
She said the bloody axe shouldn’t cause him much alarm.
The merchant, he agreed.
He then called it a day.
He pat the cutter’s shoulder and then went on his way.
The seamstress followed suit,
She stood up and bid farewell.
The woodcutter didn’t stay, left before the evening fell.
Four sat around a corpse, but all that lived were three.
The ferryman’s limp body, hung from a bare tree.
It made the merchant gag.
The seamstress lost all hope,
They all stared at the poor man tied by his own boat’s rope.
Did the ferryman take his life?
The woodcutter, he asked.
He tried to keep calm, but his fear was poorly masked.
Who’s done it?
The seamstress cried.
She stood, all teary eyed.
The merchant looked into her eyes.
He took hold of her arm,
His gentlemanly actions had no comforting charm.
They all swore to return,
The two left hand in hand,
All but the woodcutter who buried the ferryman in sand.
Three sat around a corpse, but all that lived were two.
The seamstress lay frozen, her brow coated with dew.
By her, there lay a bottle,
That made the merchant’s heart stop.
He stared in rude shock at the spilt eye drop.
One of us,
Whispered the cutter.
The rest he couldn’t utter.
The merchant spoke softly
He wanted to know the cause.
He said perhaps the killer, had some fatal flaws.
The cutter, he then replied.
Said they all had a fact to share.
All five knew the corpse, the three slain, for him, didn’t care.
The merchant, he stood up.
His eyes fixed on the cutter.
His head ached and spun at the words the man did utter.
He then shut the lady’s eyes,
The air was still save for his cries.
He buried her by the river bank while the cutter quietly left his rank.
Two sat by a corpse, now all remained was one.
The woodcutter lay lifeless, under the feeble sun.
The merchant screamed out loud.
He felt alone in an invisible crowd.
He knelt beside the cutter, engulfed in a sunny shroud.
He saw a single needle,
Lying beside the cutter’s neck.
And on his pale skin, there was a bloody speck.
The merchant drowned the body.
His unease could not be feigned.
He made his way out of the woods, now only the corpse remained.
Five sat around a corpse,
Five of them were dead.
One stood up and walked,
And walked on far ahead.
By: Samiksha Deshpande
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Very well written