Her Last Lullaby
One day as i was walking by
by Arundathi Santosh
i heard a lonely lullaby
from the other end of the snowy woods.
So i kept down my goods,
and tried to listen to that voice,
aesthetically pleasing by choice.
I assumed it belonged to a mother,
singing to her only child, warming him with leather
to protect him from the cold outside,
but to herself she denied.
Soon, her voice started fading,
as the sun and the sky stopped dating.
So i walked over to the baby and found that-
well honey, that's where your real mother died.