Now here I am,
Kneeling beside your grave;
Flowers locked in my palm,
Brought neither as gesture of love-
Nor of abhorrence

Rather of customary requirements
To visits of this nature
I wouldn’t flatter you,
By having vastly strong sentiments,
Of the caliber of love and hate

For these often require-
Prolonged associations;
Knowledge and understanding between the counterparts,
Which we least had.

Treasure, is of little value-
To what you were supposed to offer me
Just to love and be there for me as a mother,
And I couldn’t have asked for anything better

Your presence and love
I would have rated somewhere in the status,
Of gold; diamonds and pearls
For it would have made me-
The richest and happiest of souls

Now I kneel here spitting melancholy utterances
Hoping that will make a difference,
And conjure a vocal reply
Only to receive nothing but muted responses
Which vastly enhance my grievances
For I never hoped for a reunion of this fashion

I pursue my seemingly futile monologue
Dreaming of a dialogue,
Even any form of a reply
But my ears seemed eager to defy

All I could hear was a creaking sound
Of dead autumn leaves,
Looking very dead and lifeless
Dispersed by an occasionally chilly wind,
Hitting against your tomb
And my body felt numb
Ever since you left,
This was not the kind of a meeting,
Which I painfully spent,
Almost each day of my being,
Longing to see

If I only had-
Maybe some supernatural ability,
To conjure the dead,
Back to life again:
I would make green the leaves,
Lying dead against your tomb
So they could, as it was meant to be,
Beautify the land once more

I would primarily give you life
So that I could ask some questions
That would change our communication
From merely a monologue,
To a courtroom like dialogue
They would mainly be why questions