Distraught and gloomy, longing for happy,
turning the dehazed skies black,
the dormant red,
turning the white buds pale,
the crisp grass frail,
there it stood.
There it stood! pleading for happy,
for she got it killed.
There it stood on the crest of a high rise hill,
being the only one in the valley,
Sieged by fine ripe corns dotted with bright white flowers,
the mighty ocean landscaped before her eye,
for she was half blind.
The warmth, felt the warmth of her happy,
though, there was only a though of sad...
Maddened by the immense loss, her muscle of red
was like a cold rapt lava.
Gracious moments of past, struck her mind, now and forth.
The first crawl,
his first word.
the first step,
his first toy.
The first cry,
and A1! her first sight of him!
Ahh.... The poor little angel!
She was broke...
SHE was broke, like a mutilated orphan,
who often culminate for a mother
The ambush for which she conferred her son-the vicious attack by the uncouth,
brought about a chill of startle and staggerment, that opened a universe of tears.
Her emotions had the competence raging like a bull,
yet she spared the life of the scoundrel,
not with mercy, merely with arbitrary.
Her eyes, gleaming like a leading house,
filled with the nostalgia of longing, was waiting for her love long agone.