What if you tie the knot and the next day, your world says goodbye forever? A haunting nightmare, I know. That’s what I thought.
Here’s a bride, whose husband died. Her world has fallen apart, and like the poles of our planet, it’s forever dark in her life.
Widow before a bride,
There, sorrows reside.
Heart is filled till its core,
Sweetest fruits taste sour.
It’s a house, not a home.
Outside warm, here cold.
She’d pick the pieces,
Of blood and curses.
Raining all the way around,
A corner, she’s bound.
Live and die, on the poles.
The sun never rises anymore.
Note: The write-up is solely written my me, Jigyasa.
