A Mother's Lament: Sorrow's Enduring Embers

Woman Praying By Anamitra Ray

What of the child,
so pure and young,
the family's breadwinner, 
whose old mother, ever vigilant
listens for his return.

Anticipating his arrival, her heart does yearn. 
But alas, news of insurgency, 
a voice unknown, 
echoes through the air, a mournful tone.

Neighbors weep, dressed in black attire, 
tears stain the wreaths, 
shredded petals embrace the funeral pyre. 
She did not live for such sorrow and despair. 

Yet now she mourns,
her smile a burden to bear, 
each bite she takes,
each song she sings, 
is tinged with grief, 
the pain it brings. 

She waits for the red rose plant, 
her son's loving gift, 
to bloom and honor her, her spirits to uplift