The stroke


   Geetha Munnurcode
Along the silvery lines of the sea
Cutting off the bizarre silence
She grieves…, she growls…”Oh! My love…”
The echolalia of her groans resonates
“Oh! My beloved…Be back…”

She runs wild, into the dormitories
Of the dreary world, throws her fists,
Her eyes glowing like rubies of hope;
Her feet cramped, skin smeared,
Stained fully the cloak she wore.
Her dirty feet still strolling fast,
“Dear, come back my love…,
Tell me the tales of blue seas.”

Alas! Ignited a moments pulse!
To sooth the wailing heart.
A tyranny of tidal waves trots
Torching a brilliant wave fast!
“Mom I heard you beckon me,
From across the Barren Sea I came.
Your son, with a sad tale to tell…

A hundred of my mates and myself
In just a moment went immobile
Can’t narrate, how the icy spells
Shot into the strong walls of ‘Krusk’
All around us turned blindingly blue
The death with its carpet thrown…
Snowed! Stormed! Or stoned! How to know!
A paradox undefined peeled our souls out!
Never did a tiny drop of blood spill.

Good Bye, Mom; I am too late, I must go!”
A lightning fell; a thunder broke!
She lies dead on the cozy sands
For sure the heaviest stroke she had !

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