Another leaf falls from the ailing vine
As she counts the days left for her last sigh..
Icy polar winds cover her meadow
Like a shaman buries the remnants of death
After a ritual of perpetual abstruseness
Even skies fail to extricate the reason
Behind the ravens denial to soar high..
Or the silence of the stridulous owletts
For three consequent dreary nights..
Grief comes in installments my friend..
Never too much for just one time!
Like a little vile from the serpents fangs
In diurnal doses renders one immune
To the foreboding pain already anticipated!
Her bed creeks and reels under the burden
Of the chains of guilt carried since decades..
Now too heavy to be borne furthermore..
Thus, murmuring her last prayer to the lord
She stares at the weak and incapacitated vine..
Which once bloomed luscious green with life!
Like her smile that once won numerous hearts
Now fading away as the last leaf falls....
