Wishes of a Dead Son
O winds, going to where once I dwelt,
Don't carry moisture there, for they'll rust,
Turn your streams here , where I melt,
Burn to ashes and turn into dust .
O birds, don't sing any song there,
For they know their son has turned into dirt,
And is lost forever in the eternal fair,
Your song will tear apart their hearts .
O clouds , please don't rain here,
Go away , far away from me,
Go and wash all their tears ,
For they have a future to see.
O moon , shining up too high ,
Listen to me , as I don't lie,
Give them warmth and give them light,
For I can't be once again in the sight.
Copyright © Alok Yadav | Year Posted 2021
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