Mother Of Death
It all started in the middle of the night.
When she engulfed the burning sun in her dark dungeon.
Suddenly which changed her economics.
It made her wealthy, it made her poor.
The urge for acid in her arid mouth.
The tenderness in her chest that it brought.
Little mass of cells crammed in the walls of future.
Extra dose of pills to satiate the fluid's hunger.
It all started when lightening occured.
She felt pain, she felt rush.
Her thought impregnated with hope.
All shattered like sand when that ended as still birth.
But the cinderella kept dancing at the corner.
Only to add sorrow to the mother of death.
poem by Menash Mohan Shrestha
Added by Poetry Lover
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