I want to love like a mother.
Watering the bullets of the prisoners of war,
Because they sing the Indian patriotic music now.
Excavating the blood out of her husband’s spine,
Because the child’s bleeding.

I’m not saying mothers are crazy,
But they are extreme.
And they suck the world to it’s knees.
Until the world pulls together,
The best mud to potter knees out of the way.

Love excavates bodies to entertain hybrid flowers,
Growing between the beehives coated in glaze inside.
Too unpredictable to take place,
That’s how I want my love to be.

To be found between the last breaths of my rival.
Aah! Hard it is going to be,
Creating the Indian flag on his hands.
From midnight 14th August 1947,
Till midnight 15th august 1947.
That’s how free our love has to be.

Decorated roses in free smells,
To inherit unknown places.
A love as revolutionary as the depressed fathers,
Ailing to be recognised by the blood in their mother’s voice coming.
From the red sea,
To save the depression until it blasts the love.

Hello, everyone! If you liked this Poem, do check out the related posts. Comment and like if you would like to read more similar works from the author. And don’t forget to share this on your social media channels.

Hey, my name is Kavya Rawlley. I’m a student. I’m still discovering myself but for the most part, I am made of words I believe. I wish to change the world and bring in peace through the warmth of my writings.

Email: krawlley01@gmail.com

Instagram: www.instagram.com/kavyarawlley/

www.instagram.com/myvichaar/

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