By Hrithika M
The fault, dear friend, lies not in stars,
Nor in the hands of kin, but in the dark.
A mind, a marvel, a brilliant bloom,
Yet shadowed by a silent, haunting gloom.
A woman of wisdom, a heart pure and true,
A victim of illness, a tragic, cruel view.
Her children, burdened, a painful plight, Seeking solace, yearning for light.
A childhood marred, a tender soul's strife, A longing for love, a desperate life.
A family fractured, a bond severed deep,
A legacy of sorrow, a promise to keep.
A question lingers, a haunting refrain, Could kindness have healed, could hope have sustained?
Perhaps, dear friend, in a world more aware,
Such suffering could be eased, such burdens to bear.