Castaway
Castaway :-
Long day…longer it gets…
with no hand at a distance,
grey skies, with glimpses of clouds
that traverse together, like a bound existence.
far off, in the sultry fields
a raw sight, of a damsel,
a women…or a helpless maiden
hardly could anyone tell.
dry eyes, with a wry smile,
and a piece of black drape,
it was all, that she wore..
to hide her visage, from people’s gape..
thin frame, and ghastly feet,
copper-like rough strands,
but face, with a rare angelic cut,
wearing paleness, she walked, in a trance..
barely there, but starkly felt,
from within a distance, of her feet
her riches…that she firmly held,
some rags…and a piece of paper…old but neat.
Wandering, in those, smothered lands…
She trailed on…over miles of sights...
a faith, in someone, and the words he spoke,
kept her going…through days and nights…
as the fiery sun, with the glistening moon,
And the melting snow of the glaciers,
Months came…and passed…like a blink
And our lady was seen…lesser and lesser...
Winter ushered, with its full vigor,
Painting those parched lands, with its charm,
Untainted and pure it looked, as a sacred hymn,
Sung by a preacher, like a soulful psalm.
One such misty morn, as it was to be…
Blades of grass…still fresh with dews,
Wrapped in the pall, of countless blossoms,
There she lay, cold and stiff, in the morning hues…
Aged enough, when the day was,
Folks came…with melancholy on minds,
Someone saw, a thing, subtly hidden…
A letter it was, one of her riches, of good ol‘times.
It smelled of nothing, but selfless love,
That she bore, in her bosom, for her man,
Who promised, taking her along, upon his return,
The fateful letter, said it all, in a leaf’s span…
Tears weren’t enough, to mourn her loss,
All who came, knew it too well,
She came with nothing, but left with a lot,
Her memoirs, too poignant, stayed like a witch’s spell.
Buried she was, in heart of the earth,
As a dead log, that rots in the backyard,
Harsh a message, her death did foster,
That, people truly ‘fall’, in love, like a pack of cards…
As Mother Nature, has always had it,
Another long day, came to an end,
The world went on swiftly, on all its fours,
Camouflaging itself, with a blissful ignorance...
Copyright © Debashree Tripathy | Year Posted 2017
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