Sati
Tears dot the edge of her eyes
upon seeing how the tables have turned,
as the village a week ago by her side
now coerces her towards the pyre.
Silence shrouds the field
like a foreboding veil of fog
as each step she walks is dry cement
approaching the burning logs.
The she steps straight into the flames
a mask of nobility upon her face
as she prays with the fire licking her sari
that her love may conquer all.
Copyright © Sara Rose | Year Posted 2025
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