A Dawn of Burial

 

     A Dawn of Burial 

A fresh dewy dawn 

Embraced the street again.

Beside the scenic aura 

Of that breathtaking pavement 

Stood a beautiful house

White, two storeyed, adorned

With green herby lush of

Garden flowers mounted 

With lively dew drops.

Through the ground floor 

That gives a fragrant welcome,

Up the stairs, went that

Dreamy girl, into the dark 

Doomed room, fuming

In shrinking memories of

The past and the present.

A heavy heaving heart in

That rainbow coloured home;

Brushed with wounds, scars

And bruises spitting out 

A sour liquid that unites

With the dead sea of 

Poisonous fear;

Entrenching fear of life.

Memories held within

The sour liquid drops, 

Encapsulating

Tinges of red stains

That tell enormous stories

Of dread and dead emotions ;

Of how that dreamy sweet

Little heart was brushed 

With sharp thorns of 

Demonic laughter;

Of how the laughter slaughtered

A happy heart.

Damn dowry, dreaded dowry

Dowry, dowry and dowry

Being the repeated question

Of her existence

The same voices leaping up 

And down within the dead soul

That once cherished bliss.

Where to end her story

Where to begin

She knows not, but 

A certainty of time that 

Lapses affirms its

Presence in that dreadful 

Heart of hers.

To die again, to die

A second time, is

What she yearns for.

She, who yearned for

Colours in her past

She, who loved life

Like no one else.

Her soul is already dead

Assuring its absence 

Through a sigh of

Numbness that shrieks

Through her body, shivering;

Another cycle of frustration.

Another cycle of strangling hopes.

Dead ones! Hope is not

A word in her dictionary 

Anymore, for evermore.

The life ends in

A silence.

A silence which engulfs 

Bloody screams of violence;

Of violence sprouting from 

The inner core of her 

Dead mind which witnessed

The cruelty of injustice.

Injustice revolves around the

Life that is left in her

Which is about to end 

In a minute, a minute

Which carries infinity within.

Infinite end of ongoing injustice.

A life subsides, halts at 

A moment that wipes away 

Dreams - the sheer transparency 

Of injustice that knows 

No bounds.

The world cries, trembles 

Mourning for her dead dreams

But never tries to withdraw

Injustice from its own

Living spaces.

"We'll fight for her, strive

For justice that she deserves."

What justice is the doomed

World talking about?

Justice that comes after death?

The one which would cross hands 

And be helplessly blinded to 

Her dreams that are dead?

Oh! This is nothing but

A raw patch of shame -

To mourn in vain for a

Cause which one denies 

To eagerly strive for

In one's own territory.

The real justice lies in

Destroying the injustices

That lie within us,

Within our hearts, within our

Homes, within our workspaces

Within the society.

The fulfillment of justice 

Commencing from an individual 

Level, that has a definite

Purpose; a purpose to

Shower colours onto the

Dreams of one another;

A purpose which would help 

Each other grow

In harmony and love.

A world which would rejoice 

In rapture, where no one

Would be drained of life,

Drained of dreams,

But each person would be

Respected for who they're.

Then, she would smile like

She never had

Dreaming from nowhere 

To be born again 

To live again 

To cherish big dreams again,

In a just world that awaits

Her with a warm welcome.

A world that's free from

Heinous forms of injustice

A world in which 

She would be loved

For who she is

Rather than for

What she has.  

                            -  Vinaya Mary