Winking at her shadow
She gasped under her cot
Striding through dreaded leaves,
She asked,
Me, a woman
In my mother’s womb?
Her tears never rained,
But poured out,
In guise of brokenness.
The bane of her teardrops
For them,
Only a mirage.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
fine composition indeed.......10/10