The Speaking Grave

Nothing special was about this day,

Or maybe it was just as usual.

Wondering how it got me late to rush,

I juggled my car keys, heading with splush!

‘Ohh my dear mumma, I’m back’,

I clamored with excite.

Unknowing that my lady was enraged,

Cuz I again left her orders disobeyed!

But then she saw me smiling with that puppy face,

And thank god her anger somehow waned.

‘Is this the time to return?’ she still yelled,

Making me imagine my cheeks getting swelled!

Yet I kept dancing and singing,

Snubbing her questions of worry.

‘Mumma, mumma I’ve got promoted’, was my shout of joy,

Mutating that moment to be only enjoyed!

This was what I’d kept waiting for so long,

Hustling hard from dusk to dawn.

I knew my lady would now rejoice,

After-all it was her orison’s prize!

‘Look I told you, you’ll earn it,

You’ll make it with your diligence and zeal,

And someday they’ll have to write for you the grace note..’

Words on words, mumma kept praising despite of that lump in her throat!

She was happy, she delighted,

But sadly, those words became less and eyes teared.

This was for the 999th time, I guess,

When she had again left my soul depressed!

Everything became frozen and dark,

As my heart mewled with shadows of past.

Nothing could I then do, except gazing her sink,

As she submerged back to the grave, just in a wink!

The yearning to be kissed by her on forehead,

Or maybe the peace I found in her lap.

Somehow all of that couldn’t be kept stave,

B’cuz mumma was no more there,

Rather it was her speaking grave!