“She was yet to mother her first… Then an accident; the accident made her someone’s hero… That someone is me. I love you MOTHER.” ~From a son whose mother died from postpartum hemorrhage. At the age of 7, he writes…
Sacrilege!! I overtook my age
It should’ve been a miscarriage
And I wouldn’t be the criminal
That sent her soon for her burial…
I can’t remember how I did it
But for sure I am the culprit
I came out to give her a blast
Had I known her next breath was the last…
The night was in its late hours
In April, a month of rain showers
A life given, a life taken
Mine for hers, the befallen…
The flowers brought for the occasion
Have withered on her tombstone
I’ll never say it’s her fault
It’s out of love that she refused to abort…
They told me it was fast
She said: “The baby first”
They carried on with her will
Just to find her lying still…
That’s how I orphaned myself
This fact can’t be kept in a shelf
And I’ll forever live with this sorrow
For killing my greatest hero…
If only to the past I could run
Coz without her the present is no fun
Why no time machine ever built
To give me a chance to erase this guilt?
I killed her the day I was born
That day; apart was my new life torn
And an endless pain for me was guaranteed
Because for her my heart will forever bleed…
To The Brim of Me!! 