They search for own life after Mama's death,
That under rubble of their love to salvage,
What their daughter did to them bequeath,
Save sole remains of death in shrouded baggage.
That under rubble of their love to salvage,
What their daughter did to them bequeath,
Save sole remains of death in shrouded baggage.
Their swearing arms beseech -- in tight embrace
Of their deceased child, dead as stone, and still,
And dead are her doe eyes, angelic face,
Her labial bud that mirthfully did giggle --
As they do gather up soul of their daughter
In her belongings -- toys, toons, cares and clothings...
And ages gone, they fondle these matchless treasure
That world will fail to buy at whole of things;
What else to inherit from cache of the gravestone
When children die and live the parents on!?
- N P SAMAL
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