Her -III

Sulking days,

At home she stays,

No light, no rays

In a corner she lay.

Crying her heart out,

What was it all about?

I saw her walk out for a bit,

Only to fall on the porch and sit.

Eyes speaking red,

With sorrow and tears they were fed,

I wonder if she had anyone to care,

For her in her melancholy.

I looked through my window,

Many a people,  outside her house,

Black dresses,

To mourn,

What? !

No, No.

My mind knew what my heart ceased to believe,

She was dead,

Guilt-drenched,

I sulk in the corner,

Strange are the ways of life,

Hatred to the alive,

Love to the dead.

-Anirudh Shankaran.

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2 thoughts on “Her -III

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