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Remembrance for a choker in my deathbed 
(Read-only version, a knick-knack too) 
 
Precious finger, the witnessing one, Count 
The forehead of a pious one, leaving a mark 
Glowing along days and nights, prayer mats, in trying times 
And prayers at dusk. Prayers valid till the sternest hairline dawn. 
 
I touched his forehead, long past after the soul is gone. 
He was the only one in my life, the only one of his capable kind. 
He was the stubbornest hand holding me and mom inside an elevator 
He was scrutinizing the sky to let me fly, however superficial it may sound. 
 
I got wiser through all these years. I earned wisdom. 
In turning grayer hair colors too, underneath the head scarf. 
You will see my purple there, but I will label it as a purple heart. 
Torn tears are in sheets of Facial tissues, also, in mourning mistakes, never to be known. 
 
Just for my persuasive temptation, for the next one, 
How many harms roads are there along the enlightenment highway in one full Cloverleaf, the old one?

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