Scars Of Her Elegance

HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY

Those tinkering lights shining bright,

Empty roads with leaves wobble aside,

Desolation was slogging every bit apart,

What if abyss is all that to be in line for.

That's where she blows in,

In a terrain of nothing and everything,

Where those scathing eyes peep around 

Through those curtains draped in disguise,

To spook her till she swoons,

As dissension is all she can never subdue.

In such a world swamped in misery and gloom,

She wants to bloom like a sunflower at its loose,

All she could ever reverie to be beautiful

With no soul left to vividly note

What bourne she beholds!

What if we cut her loose,

And let her glide in that bewildered sky

Till that Eventide set her wings apart

As she can neither cry eyes out

Nor can screech any ears out

Even if any ordeal takes her life away,

She will arise like sunshine,

Cause she's in fine feather,

In every split second of her life,

As she's stronger and dyed in the wool.

Even if any catastrophe sets her rails off,

Even if any bigotry breaks her vigour drop by drop

Even if those scars tear her very soul,

Into bits and pieces, she can ever mould,

There's hope to everything she stands for,

As she has the brawn to devour,

Every atrocity that escorts to her floor.

As she's the only tool that makes her immune.

Still people are so up in the air,

What potency a WOMAN truly holds!

And it's hard to let go and phantom,

Those scars that turned her life topsy-turvy.

Still she never flounders to defy,

As she's a mother of no disguise,

With such love and care that makes her divine,

As she portrays a picture of utmost flare,

All in all, she epitomizes the scars of her elegance.