Someone Please Tell Her That Her Beloved Son Has Died As A Martyr In The War

Since you’ve been gone, my blood has turned black, I’ve cut my nails to my point where my fingers bleed.
I’ve been talking to flowers that have withered away. I’ve been asking them about your whereabouts. 
Where are you son? Where is your soul?
I’ve spoken to darkness for long, I’ve asked to see your face that has been so long gone. 
The lake no more speaks to me, it cries a waveful symphony. 
I’ve asked the winter to bring you back because the summer has deceived me when I asked the last. 
I’ve dug the bodies of your long gone friends but they fail to tell me if you are doing well.
My tears, the ocean of melancholy, call to the ocean to drown me if you’ve already drowned.
My son, where are you? 
I cannot smell you on your clothes anymore. Please come back home. Your room is empty as me and your pictures, now speak of you as an absentee. 
Come home! I beg you, please come home. 
Years have passed, I cannot last any longer, my body isn’t no more stronger.
I’m pale now and slowing fading but I remember you, I’ll always do, and never forget your eyes that gave me hope when you left. 

© Aniket More


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