Posted in Originals, Poetry, Reflections, Travel Stories

Life In Ruins

There stood her idols of faith

In those niches, once upon a time

There used to be a bowl of oil and comb

For massaging the kids and her husband at night

There used to be photographs of her sisters and parents

Her memories of childhood, her previous home

That closet in the wall once held her favourite sarees

Silk chiffon cotton and her favourite works of zari


The ruins have left what was once 

Her daily life, up for public display

So much so that I carry her 

Places of prayer love and rest, back home


They leave me wondering

Isn’t that how life leaves us in ruins too? 

Split open, broken, looted of the closest and dearest

Leaving us in full public display of our insides

The deepest beds of what was our oceanic life once

Is suddenly seeing the naked sun with all of its water dried up


Isn’t that how change occurs

After destruction of life as we know

When lives become ruins like these

At the hands of time and life and our beloveds

And sometimes at the hands of our own dark desires

Cover image ©thestonedstoryteller

Follow me on Instagram! @thestonedstoryteller

One thought on “Life In Ruins

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