On a morning jog
Commotion I saw.
Flashing beacons
Wailing sirens.
Soft, shrill and loud, their
Whispers howled.
None was allowed, though
All wanted a peep.
It was only
The help
Who gave up on life.
She was youthful, and
Driven to extreme, he said as
His iris twinkled.
Her womb was astir
Queen of the night she was
Odious, she smirked.
Yet again, a chord was snipped
Umbilical it wasn’t, as
Inert you lay.
In the stealth of night, their
Sins were absolved, as your
Remains they expelled.
Feasts for royalty
Satiated greed a many, while
Supine you remained.
Bereft were those eyes
For the salts had dried
Woebegone they are, their hearts
Devoid of grief.
I knew you not, how
I wish I had.
Beauteous you must’ve been
In the prime of youth.
Cherubic your desires
Shiny & sparkly, your dreams
That may’ve been.
Was the agony so deep, that
A noose you adorned
Where the pearls should’ve been?
The skies dangle, forlorn and
Abandoned, as
Its celestials descend, to
Illuminate your path, and
Trail your hearse.
Go my dear
To that world unknown
Where life abounds
And cherished you’ll be.
===
Footnote:-
(Tribute to a young girl, a house-keeper, driven to extreme).
