With every morning light , I open the petals of my eye
brief the silence and watch the truth set to die.
Once out of my window I see, the dazzling sky, the beautiful early morning birds cry,
and under this serene view lied the dirty truth,
that had kept my eyes dry.
There lie under the tree a burka lady , sitting.
With the tiny holes she unveils her veil,
focusing at the dim sky,
checking the stars and blaming them for the miseries in which she lie.
She wishes to fly and be one with the sky,
for man knows only how to divide
but its the women who binds the truth and lie,
never settling for less yet being abused under the same eye.
The truth is hard and her pain was real,
even though she breeds in fear yet her soaring soul makes her mark,
with her hands that are still cold dry.
She educates a part of she, the little life that nibbles inside her,
getting ready to be part of the world allies.
She grants her stories and immunity to try,
As she will not color her life in the same misery in which her mother died.
And now the baby lies with me bundled in love and coated with a lie.
that her mother was never there when she first cried.
But how can I tell her that through her is she only alive, her sacrifice is the reason of your smile
and the truth can never be pried, as that is the only promise she made me do before she took her only life.
delivering her other life into the onus of mine.
My fate was declared even without being her blood I was made her star eye.
Justice could not be severed, To be born was her mother's only crime.
Is this how we humans decided to civilize?
By - karanbir Singh