The Darkest hour
The gravity of her question turning my insides brown
Her seeking the truth slowly destroying my fragile crown
I gasped for air trying to compose myself
How do I tell a child that her mother has been taken, a truth so heavy buried in our darkest shelf
Her only crime was raising her voice
How could she be equal to the great man who runs our life
To defy the every being of an egoistical clan
I uttered the most dreadful words in our land
"Your voice is a truth the world needs, my dear"
She grinned from ear to ear
Knowing deep down the lies I told for her to live another year
If only I could muster the courage to challenge the blatant atrocities,
Slowly eyes wandering to my inflicted permanent disabilities
Questioning everyone who claims to be the beacon of peace
Deep down still hoping for the suffering to ease
Copyright © Apoorva Dixit | Year Posted 2025
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