Over a shallow grave of blood and flesh
a mere fistful of tears are flung.
Brief life with questionable purpose;
unseen, unheard, unsung.
...
Read full text
'...with it remains the tiny flicker of hope still yearning to count tiny fingers'... Nice expression...wise too...it's this flickering hope that moves ordinary lives, Roshni...well written piece...thanks...10
A tragic piece Roshni....beautifully told....I can only wish that the hope and yearning to count tiny fingers is realised...10++
Still life goes on behind a false facade, but the faintest grief still lingers. How very true! well penned!
'unsung lullabys before bed'...so dark Roshni but I like it that at the end there is a glimmer of hope and a yearning for re-birth....