Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.


They say it’s spring,

But winter just started with me.

March is when the trees

Shed their leaves for me.

Have they heard my heart

And wept their foliage back to earth, our sacred one?



People stain their foreheads with mark made of dirt.



I knew their muted presence,

Saw the last grip we shared.

Their unseen eyes have read,

The silent goodbyes in our final stare.

Too bad you can never hold nor kiss

What has fallen to the ground.


            *Dusk to dusk, autumn to winter.



Recall this month.

Remember the date.

When I abhor what used to be adored.

A cursed time that brings life

To the one who brought my death.

I could still trace the nights of mourning

For unwanted love sent to grave calling from under.


Birth brings death as death brings life.


Today I can hear father screaming,

A dismal prelude to his coming departure.

Feeling the torture from our ****** blood.

Mother could only weep as I,

Weariness marked our faces

As we speak of impending end.


The earth will take you back.


Should we set the premise

For the soil that claims him?

But father wished to be burnt

And let us keep his ashen form.

It hurts to speak of it as early as now.

He has to suffer still like trees of March.


What has come up must go down.



Has the leaves breathed in

My grieving whispers?

I wish you’re here holding me

As I cry like the trees

And father fades like the leaves.

For winter comes in March.


            *Everything that has fallen shall rise again.