In The Night She Died Poem by Anil Kumar Panda

Nights glimmer is lost in a veil
Of suspense and eerie superstition
Soul flickers to make way out
As in the faint light she does moan
Moths whine to carry the scars
To the lamp and burn it down
Photos are dusted to be framed
Blood is still fresh in the gown
Untainted, but blamed and thrashed
Pain is there as an inauspicious mole
Names are often changed in songs
When she was tossed as pretty doll
Heart begs time to make a stop
Knuckles crack to hold the divine rope