Tuesday, 19 September 2000

My Aunt, my Chachi...

There was a little soul
which had been blessed with life
A little soul thus nurtured
until mature and ripe

And then as tradition had it
She was to marry a man
A man she never knew of
But had to understand.

So life for years to come
was then blessed with little lives
A house surrected bit by bit
with laughter the only reason for tearful eyes.

Nine years since and all opportunities ignored,
To build a home full of trust,
the very basis of security
where in everyone is blessed and loved,

This very home
which was so painstakingly built
full of love and patience,
is but to be shattered and killed.

The very soul which had been traditionally bound
to a contract, a man further entrusted with so many lives
Is now in mere minutes so brutally rejecting
the very woman whom he promised love and security,

Leaving her instead in miserable bitterness.

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