A Mother's Lament
A Mother's Lament


For nine months
I nourished him in my womb
This longed-for child
This gift of God
After years of hoping
Losing hope, then praying
At all the places of worship
Believed to be ‘alive’ with
The presence of God
At last, the happy day
Beyond joy, beyond relief
This perfect child…
Oh, how we adored him!
Nothing was too much for him
No sacrifice too great
Willing slaves to his every whim
His father and I
But slowly, he changed
Became secretive, sly
His friends were strangers
Serious, grim
He was sixteen
When he left
Without a word
Without ‘goodbye’
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Breaking our hearts
Leaving us bereft
The months passed
Without a word
We carried on
With our lives
Numbly,
Beyond hurt
And then, the shock
His bullet-ridden body
Left at our doorstep
By unknown hands
That longed-for child
That gift of God
Taken away violently
At barely eighteen
His father died
Soon after
Grief-stricken
No will to live
I carry on
With a heart of stone
Wondering
“Why was he born?’
I have no words
Since that day
They call me ‘mad’…
Perhaps I am...
But I neither know nor care....