I Stood a Mannequin

He was babbling oh! In his slumber,

I heard from beyond, his words of,

Anguish, he thought he won the war,

Rules were his, laid upon me far,

Forgetting easy none escaped here,

None escaped the decay, his blood,

Running hot of youthful days, was,

With time now turning grey, freeze,

Taking control and much of paleness,

On his wrinkled face, yet he denied,

Of having ever been that callous,

He made a nest and there I rested,

For longer than I bear in mind,

Time really ditched me and ever,

I wondered what would halt this pain!

Would that man ever stops of loving?

Me desperate, his silence echoing,

Into my ears even here now, how can,

I be at peace beneath my grave,

When he walks with tears in his eyes,

And dropping few drops over the soil,

Where the last of me was buried!

I keep staring at heaven, pleading,

To them, how could I ask for his life?

That was not my dare, but seeing him,

Dying evermore pricked my heart with,

Thorns of our love lost in space and time,

I paid my homage night and days,

To see he was taken care off, leaving him,

In the hands of those once we created,

With our bodily love, and I was at peace,

To see my values not gone wrong, he,

Kept his promise given long back then,

When he was just seven!

When he was just seven!

When you go to heaven Ma,

 I will make a mannequin,

Of yours, and give it to thy beloved and,

 Keeper ours, that he never feels alone,

For then his eyes would be as blind,

And he would think of that lifeless doll,

As you and bellow, love, kiss, embrace,

Like he did then, when you were alive,

He would do it all, knowing not we made,

You a doll, yes we made you alike a doll!

Making fool of him again and again,

Alas! Now when those days have begun,

I watched from the heaven, the man,

Cried more for me, I never uttered a word,

Neither I fought nor laughed on his absurd,

Jokes, he and I was alone in the darkest,

Room of life, I stood as a mannequin,

And he was alive breathing barely,

Oh! I cried more than him, wishing him,

Death more than life, old age was not,

He deserved, solitude shouldn’t be his mate.

Words By: Monalisa Joshi

Image Credit: Eleanor

 

 

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