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Summer House

The Precious Gift, “An Orphan”


Streams weeping down the hill,

Mediterranean wave glistening, though still.

Continuous breeze gives unconfined care,

Mother’s manus touches Her face, sheer ardour.

Laquacious home to silent stable,

Eyes welling up as she read the deep fable.

Letter Calligraphs , “The 18th Precious Gift”

You’re an adult and its time to inquire, the ‘secret’ behind the myth.

Your ‘Dad’ left me, when you infant my womb

Society abused me with colic syndrome.

Ran out of cash and nothing left other being depressed,

I made you ‘Stranger’ for better calling you a ‘Pest’.

Cramped you up and locked you rancid,

Into the lap of an Orphanage.

Several questions will spin out your mind,

You will be beaten and hated for being alive.

Scars will grow deep and darkness shall  kill you alone,

When you’ll see other children merry in their parental home.

Today on this special day I want,

Just to forgive me from all the burden, I grant.

Leaving behind this ‘Toy’ which I bought before your birth,

Now my soul can travel in heaven’s mirth.

Always live wise,

Fight bravely with your life.

Last line in the letter said, “I love You Forever”

Your Mother .

That silent night engraved the violent rage,

She knelt down and just prayed.

Eyes were moistened and heart needed pace,

Letter was wet with tears of grace.

Year back! She always got those candies from the stranger,

Which was no one but her mother.

She looked up to the sky and promised her life to grow,

The ‘Toy’ dropped from her shivering hand and spoke, “I love You”.

An Orphan

Picture credit : Prateek Shukla 

About author

The best way to deal with a  violent storm of emotions and imaginations is to pen it, soothe it, speak it.I sketch poems and your attraction is my reward. The skillful art of weaving words into stories is a blessing that I owe to almighty Thee. Many people write for fun, but for me writing is attachment, both with my soul and my readers. Mystique, Fiction, Exoticism, Radiance all rhyme to my work. It's never too late to start, in life and in Blogging! Passion defines living every moment and I've just begun to give in to passion.Streaming blood in body and inking silence in write-ups define me completely.
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