Over a shallow grave of blood and flesh
a mere fistful of tears are flung.
Brief life with questionable purpose;
unseen, unheard, unsung.
Untold life will soon be forgotten-
Tiny flicker of hope it once held
of unseen tears, unheard laughter,
and unsung lullabies before bed.
So life goes on behind a false facade,
but the faintest grief still lingers.
And with it remains the tiny flicker of hope
still yearning to count tiny fingers.
beautiful lines and the last lines come so naturally
'...with it remains the tiny flicker of hope still yearning to count tiny fingers'... Nice expression...wise too...it's this flickering hope that moves ordinary lives, Roshni...well written piece...thanks...10
A tragic piece Roshni....beautifully told....I can only wish that the hope and yearning to count tiny fingers is realised...10++
Still life goes on behind a false facade, but the faintest grief still lingers. How very true! well penned!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem
'unsung lullabys before bed'...so dark Roshni but I like it that at the end there is a glimmer of hope and a yearning for re-birth....