Sorrow of a Widow

It was at every dusk of that summer
that she would get a meagre chance
to peek through a narrow crevice on the wooden wall
just to watch the beautiful sunset.
She would smile;
but only until the darkness fell upon the land.
The tale was different;
a story not to be uttered nor be heard
her niece would illegally supply her dungeon with stale loaves and water;
a forbidden act of unaccepted humility,
her niece would make sure there were no leftovers
or else a tragic death punishment would befell her together with her only aunt...
this was a sad epic of fatal justice
accused of making her late husband to be a sacrifice in an unknown cult
an accusation she herself was not associated with 
and thus condemned by her fellow countrymen and ladies to death by starvation
in a cold isolated dingy room filled with vigorously growing stinging nettle weed
outside in the sky,
the stars would twinkle
the moonlight would sparkle..
the incapability of her to see any of that made her wails rent the air
her tears never ceased the flow
not even her niece would be of a little aid
she had lost nearly everything in her world
even that small percentage she was left with, she couldn't fight for it
the sunshine of her life had literally been taken away from her
the only twinkle of her life;
this was the sorrow that was killing her bit by bit.


#joker

 

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About Anonymous

Poetry is love.