Once upon a nightmare, Under the oak tree, Gazing the October sky, Painted darker than black, I flumped onto the blood-red ground beneath me, Oozing melancholy of my gifted wounds, Asalia tears betraying my iris-coloured iris, And falling down on my lonely scintilla. The cold breeze ruffling through my grey furs, The rust lining my spine, The blackened sharp nails with bits of flesh, My intangible ugly halo shining bright. The darkness of this light hurts me, What am I? The screaming pain in my bones, Every full moon, Splitting my soul, one by two, And every time, The tinted truth in the glow of this darkness, Petrifies me, haunts me, The slices of life, smeared with death around me, The instant burning rage, When I switch into this animal, Failing to realise, The shrieking mistakes, The apologies lodged in my throat, The wailing human soul of mine, Through crevices in my heart, Can I still be forgiven? This isn’t my choice, It’s the nature’s imprisonment to me, The waning hues each time. The lone wolf in me is still breathing, Weary and frazzled, Curled up in her furs, My human side struggling to take over now, Waiting for the Night’s final veil, Perhaps, it’s over for tonight, As I see the sun rising, I notice my white skin coming back, I’m human now, Till the next full moon, Once upon another nightmare, A werewolf and her hopeless despair.
Few but all things will change, after this night of nightmares ends, the way we looked at the world and now we do, the death that seems new normal will haunt; the path we mustn’t have taken, the dread of death must have been stopped.
The boundary-wall of blood weaving its height and never looks down, the sprawling hands of death catching the light: an eagle who scavenge in town, Nothing to spare but to kill and drink, the blood of smiles, and flesh of hopes.
This darkness in lights and everything seems bright, so bright to see them tomorrow and day after, the passing days and unbearable tides.
The crushed tomorrow and cursed today, the night of deaths and moaning days, a death as dust and a thought embedded: nothing ever last is and it shall go, but imprinted on hearts will never fade away.
Eyes that shine with experience, Wrinkled lines on the forehead, Subtle and solemn face that hides fears, And Smile of a silly teenager. Eyelashes wet with worries, Some silvery hair strands waving out, Endless prayers of well being, She recites And sole responsibility of hers, She believes, To seed happiness into lives of loved. O! Maybe the angel itself has taken birth In human form, To set free the mortals From worldly tribulations. Indeed She is a mother.
What’s a world without the gentle caressing of a mother….?
She’s the one who shows the least pain when we fell and have a wound. She hides her worries for you. She is the one who stays up late just so you could complete your studying for the examination next day
When you grow up in a teenager, she deals with your new grumpy side where you say idiotic things to her, she never even take those words and stick to them and be mad at you for your whole life. Still she is the one who helps us when we have an emotional side up on.
And when you do grow into a beautiful woman or a handsome man, she gets filled up in pride and watches you carry out your life as perfectly as she aspired.
In and all, she spends her whole life growing you and then when she leaves this world, she is all satisfied and contented as she completed as sole responsibility.