Candles:Cry Of A Illusory Son

The screech reaches you, Mother!,

Bathed in silence

Containing in itself

The cry of sorrow and utter despair.

The ear-splitting shouts you hear are read by heart,

But never do your ears receive it.

The cries you heard, mother, trace back to

The tragedy of losing you, of losing a piece of soul,

Which had kept us aloft till date.

The throats strangled, which conveyed you

The helplessness of needy hearts

Those hearts which were empowered by your ideals,

In the glistening but begone past.

The eyes drenched in tears of gratitude

Convey much more than the moans which reach you,

And the tears still repent our unfortunate tryst with the destiny.

Cries and yells my soul of emotions,

Showing its helplessness through the eyes of mine,

Thinking of the moments that will never reappear.

Nay, I never ever can suppress the uprising of laments,

The present becoming a tearful past,

Scribed on the parchment of memory,

Revealed as I bid a sorrowful farewell to you.

The moment each, where you were there,

Becomes precious to pricelessness,

The absence of yours weakens me.

As a Pathfinder of a life new,

I owe you too much, mother,

But let my tears reach your soul,

As a token of gratefulness.

I wail silently, as every of your progenies does,

Just keeping your memories as candles,

I write to you in darkness, mother,

I write to you in darkness.

Let my words utter more than my mouth,

As I approach the not-so-far future....