A Mourning Bride
Once up on a time,
The monsoon season covered,
Shivering sounds of birds from distance wood.
I listened the cricket's music where in dark silent.
I made some clay figures and sold in a street.
Every children happy to saw and few never noticed.
I gave it gift to the poor children.
Their broad eyes filled with joy.
I walked lonely, small flowers smiled to stoop.
That rainy night, i carved the image of groom and bride.
And i stitched the nature flowers with beads.
It turned to wonderful garlands.
The nupital began, i enjoyed to saw the trational ceremony.
At a moment, my glass- heart fragiled
Heavy rain splashed in outside.
When harsh wind blowing, rain ruined my images.
I snuggled, the dark shade of life.
My tears rolled in, just mingle with clay.
Copyright © Mary Miriumjilith | Year Posted 2010
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