THE BURNING PYRE


The burning pyre,
Sky touching flames of angry fire,
There lay within the body of a once lively mother,
Now immune to all her feelings, pains and fear.


Her soft skin will burn,
Never to this life return,
Her bones will crumble and turn
To ashes, to filled in an urn.


All her love, her smiles, her laughter,
Her care, her worries, will all be memories hereafter,
Her husband, son and daughter,
Will never look back at her or go after.


The husband who never cared now cries,
The son who shouted at her, stands mourning, hands tied,
The daughter who was far away kept quiet,
This is the reality of life, no truths, all tongue tied.


I felt like puking,
Not because of the stench of flesh burning,
But at the fake faces that stood before me,
Putting on a hideous mask, not a bit guilty.


Why do not we value a life,
A life that cares for us all her life,
Brought all up, making all able,
Fighting for them till she was capable.


Once she weakened,
Her value lessened,
She was kind of forgotten,
Left as something rotten.


Then she lost the battle and died
And all of them cried,
Shedding crocodile tears,
Due to societal fears.


As the flames rise high,
I see her spirit fly with the smoke to the sky,
Happy she no more has to bear the fakes,
The people whom she loved, suffered for their sake.


Now amongst the angels fair,
She will be happy there,
In peace and complete freedom,
Never to see back, as she reaches God's Kingdom!

©Madhumita