Sunday, September 30, 2007


She lit the candle in the expectation of his return from the war
Here eyes were fixed on the road which no beauty of nature could draw
The path lay deserted before her eyes
As she awaited a hero who would ride
She heard the sound of bugles and other sounds of exultation
She knew he had come triumphant and rushed to dress herself as a bride for the celebration
She adorned herself with rings, bangles, pearls and anklet
At the doorstep she waited and waited until her eyes grew heavy and she slept
She woke up to the sound of soldiers footsteps,
Rose upright at the sight and silently wept,
They had a coffin on their shoulders with faces woebegone,
She knew he had not come for whom she waited all day long,
The kings men in their resplendant regalia handed her a scroll which she unfolded,
and perused it while tears on her cheeks rolled,
The words of the letter appeared blurred with tears in her eyes,
She knew she should not cry as the departed expected her to act wise,
The youngmen apprised, "The valiant wrote it in his dying breath,"
And words of the letter said,
"The end that I have met is a prize disguised as blood and sweat,
Do not cry for me when I'm gone,
for each tear of yours will strike a chord of forlorn,
I promise to be a star only for you with a brightest twinkle,
Only when you swear to lead a life with a suitable mate and do not be single."
She understood that like all good things in life her love too has met an end,
only to unite in heavens with her beloved and friend