Whistling its way through the silent morn,
Awaken from sleep, annoyed and harsh,
The wind blew hard, yet to be seen
Only as heard as skeletons frayed.
Stories of time, said and done
Breathed in the air and out to the bloom
Nourishing the song of eternal chime
The red moved on, hungry and proud.
I didn’t speak, I was alone,
No one to hear, no words to chant
I stood beside my passionate one
To bid her adieu to another state.
The ashes did rain, the very next day,
It smelt of smoke and my easening dream
Mourning the pain, I kissed her grave
And knelt for the earth and heard her say…
“The rain wasn’t mine, nor was the fire,
The river was quiet and so was the vent
Had I seen my tomorrows’ part
I would have slept and died in its death.”
Kavitha by : Mahesh
Email : firstname.lastname@example.org