Waits by the waiting,
To attain a happy life,
Rivers aside, gleaming yellow,
Floated on it, a happy knife.
Reddened were the banks,
The banks of blood and cuts-
Shredded feelings of curses ‘ere
Goodwill, all bound with buts.
She wasn’t dead, she wasn’t alive,
He was strangled, he laid by her side.
She was scratched , ready to burn,
The stake was crying, lying aside.
Laid beside, a stretch of pain,
A never-ending wail of rips,
Not filled with thorns, but worse,
The sun, the night forth sips !
She was tied up, then and now,
Willingly to emd all alive,
Singing was she the lullaby-
‘Cause into a sleep forever she’ll dive.
As the flames burnt her,
And the opposition had won,
She could yet take over it now,
“But to die”, she thought,”I was born “.