The Widow

The Widow

Parismita Goswami

Despair was on the epoch of an aching soul

Desires left her home antiquity

The flames of fire kept her room warm and windows open

Her dry lips and grey hairs were waves of agony

She waited for her sweet death like the villagers waited for funfair

Drowning in the unescorted love of beauty and rust

She still looks at the moon as an orchestral satiety

Though fate was brutal and hope distant

She wrote every evening after her husband’s death

Children were indebted to her sacrifices

The question was whether material happiness is everything?

Age and pain cannot defy,

A warrior!

Parismita Goswami is a postgraduate scholar of Pondicherry University pursuing Politics and International Relations. She is a writer and has published papers in various platforms and is also a poet.