For The Unborn Poem by RUP POKHAREL

In an early dawn
Of late autumn
Through ajar window
Of a semi-urban house
Dropped an eerie epistle.

The lassie of the flat
Did pick it up,
Yet:
Doer remained unknown.
Lassie ran through lines…..
Seela, love and soothing kisses to you
Though late.
I'm at the verge of
Breathing my last,
For I'm wounded
To no repair.
I did my best,
To let my land live long.
I am happy indeed,
For I've lessen
The risk of being fallen.

Take care of the fetus,
For there flows my blood
And your only living hopes.

The name tag for it
That we have chosen
Perhaps unforgotten.
I had thought of soiree with cronies
And confer the named-tag
By the gender betwixt the two.
Seela, do confer from my part too.

May they bring to you
My stiffened corpse …
My humble plea!
Do have a snap
For I haven't had any.
Do it just for the sake
Of our progeny
To at least imagine my being.
Be in good heart enough
And moist not the eyes,
For I am parting
Being Martyr.
Martyrdom owes…
Seela, love and soothing kisses to you
Shall shower by my soul
Take care of the newcomer.