When the Ashes Speak

Shailja S Narita posted under PenMuse-14 Poetry on 2019-12-10



He touched the pyre  with his trembling hand... Cold and settled -the ashes felt against his palm  was somebody resting in peace? Didn’t appear like one... The tale of her ordeal was scribbled all over the bones.. Shivering skin..trembling hands... Pale of her skin..moisture of her eyes Pain..rushing through her soul  Reaching her eyes Frail yet so determined  she put up the fight A strange animal bearing eight legs Four sets of eyes  Four sets of hands Shoved the seeds of their lust In the deep abyss of her womb. She protested They rejected She cried They smiled She howled  They rejoiced She dealt with the four legged ones But these were the ones with two.

He touched the ashes  And whispered with bitterness ...”animals ..” A strange whiff of breeze rustled through his ears .. “I treated them ... they never behaved like these .. I feared the two legged - not the four legged ones  They set me ablaze for their blood had turned "COLD” ____ ____