Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Megha Balooni May 2015
I'm walking to her grave
Every once in a while
Not by a will that belongs to me
But a promise I made
In the name of the Almighty
The day we wed
Me to my vows and she,
Obliging to her parents
Cheating me, fulfilling her chalice
With lust and mine with hurt and hate.
The syringes lying on the floor one noon
Petrifying our daughter, an overdose
And overflow of blood and spitting
Her heart out, she left
Bitter vows, an unfilled unholy grail
Lingering between us clouds of smoke
And even though the floor
Towards her grave
Is patterned irregular cobblestones
Stuffed with snow in the crevices
Its my heart
That feels a cold stone pavement.

— The End —