A lone figure forlorn on the hilltop , her black dress trailing collecting thorns dust

Bare feet bleeding running on jagged rocks , her eyes comb the horizon searchingly

Old crones speak of her having no lover , young ones say she is longing for her God

When will her everlasting vigil end ,what is her salvation from endless toil

Urchins follow her throwing stones stepping , on her swaying headscarf frayed and torn

With their pulling and pushing bareheaded , she stands naked unable to cover

Where does she go to find shelter a roof ,world strife has made a hopeless refugee

Her face reflects a past of happy days , now a scum of the earth lost forever

Her cries fill the earth and skies with Laly , a never-ending vigil her story

Come and help me save me from a world that is too much for my  waning sanity

                    Draft : Lalarukh Lasharie

                    Laly means blood red ( my Takhalas )


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