My mum burned with my corse of father in tomb


“I am making a house by begging branches from a tree of tall,
with adorning beautiful views, in my eyes which makes me festive,
with inviting breath of snowy hill in my heart which is miracle,
even I'm not seeing any hair in sky which sinks me in fear of grieve,
I'm seeing my sheep, goats are treading on lawn to seek meal,
for bury their starve, with strolling their heart on a mirth of way,
even my heart is rising on mountain where has rejoice of heal,
but now my breath is sinking under shrill broken glasses of clay,
(you = people)
because you are coming near me with splashing sweat of entire,
with, carrying an ominous news on the lap of breath,
so I'm treading to my nest along to you with kneeling in the fire,
with lurking my heart in the thorns where has death,
with, slapping quickly to my home which I made it from a wood,
even I’m seeing the sky,, cottons are lurking my head in the shroud,
but even I'm running to my nest with splashing tears and blood,
with carrying billions of fork on my lap of legs along to grief of loud,
(few minutes later at home)
now, my heart is sinking in sea where has merely acid of pure,
because I, I am seeing my dad is sitting inside the coffin of gloom,
with lurking his face in shroud, my raped heart isn't in endure,
with forgotten the world who used to tread me on way of bloom,
who used to stroll me the world with carrying me on a silky spine,
who, used to rise me on bloomy orchard along to billions of toy,
for treading my breath in deep rejoice where has charming shine,
for sending me in the heaven where my heart could lives in joy,
with,, selling your billions litter of sweat which is more than fair,
now tell me who will kiss my breath to adorn my entire dream?,
because my dad's breath has buried by rising me in grieve stair,
even, you are letting me go near to my dad with carrying gleam,
of my face,, my heart is sinking in acids where has deep wound,
even,, you aren't letting me go closer to mum in room of dark,
I really want to kneel my entire grief on her silky lap of ground,
where I used to bury the nights with grabbing rejoice of mark,
with laying my head on your silky arm instead of pillow,
who used to bury my starve by feeding from her own silky hand,
who, used to rise me on orchard by selling her shadow,
where has trillions of bloomy flowers in absence of thorny land,
who used to carry on her silky lap my trillions of nasty and clumsy blunder,
with begging billions of hair from raped moon which is blemish,
still you aren't letting me to meet her, my breath is in the acids of thunder,
because, you are adorning to my with gold and flowers of bliss,
I'm so confused why my mum isn't wearing silky shroud of white?,
with, sending other world to her vermilion on a sea of boat,
but she is looking as queen, with burying her heart in agony night,
and now I couldn't able to emit any breath from my throat,
because I'm seeing you are taking my silent father to grave,
with carrying my mum on lap of coffin along to my dad's corse,
with blowing nasty song which sinks me in volcano of cave,
even I'm also pursing same path with carrying breath of worse,
with departing away your stiffen hands from my feeble arm,
with splashing my trillions litter of tear which can sink the world,
with, rising my raped breath in grief where has acid of warm,
I'm feeling like I, I am a corse, my scarlet blood is getting so cold,
due to afflictions of deep,
my breath isn't in a creep,
my soul is going to be rip,
now I'm seeing you are laying my father on tomb of lap,
and, my mum is flushing billions litter of oil on her head,
with sitting near to my dad for growing the fires of slap,
even her heart is in walk but she is going to sink in dead,
with, tearing her cloth which made from feathers of hen,
but, before seeing that I fell down with deeply closing my eyes,
on my heart I have nor strength to see this scene of pain,
oh god, what kind of religion you have been created, is it nice?,
if husband died wife also has to die in the same coffin of agony grace?,
oh lord, please just bury this stupid religion in deep acid of soil,
I can't see other child,, mums are lurking their heart in coffin of dress,
now tell me, if wife died, can real husband become gladly boil?”
Written by Darshan Kc Saanku
NEP DATE: 2074 Mangshir 13 Wednesday

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