AYA (MOTHER)


 

Mused by the surge,

the siege, she purge

Circumcised with old age

Her life’s next page

Naked of hope,

She had cast all her cope

Nothing is any more in her power

In her time, she was a tower.

But when the hour came

She called me by name.

Too soon, too late

Farming this fruitful fate

A warrior

Never give births to a worrier

And she…… till we meet again,

after the world is drain.

 

*(mother)

 

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