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Compartment 114
Compartment 114
The Martyr

The Martyr

A Poem by Sampoorna


Dear Mother,
It is sanctioned beatitude to our souls
the dwelling in your arms
We've made our tryst with destiny
We have embraced the holy land
Oh Mother! Till death do us part
We won't partake of the golden sands.

But destiny's clock chimes in this bittersweet hour
No longer can our services we render
We've been torn from your womb, alas!

This black shroud of darkness sheilds us albeit
We can bask in your divineness no longer
But the colors of immortality, of unyielding love
Bind our hearts harder and stronger.

The flamboyance of our flag's sparkle
Rejuvenates our soaring spirit!
Through death embraces us, fondles us
Laps us into its arms our beings, minute by minute.

We love you, oh mother
We are your immortal sons
We shall reside in the seat of your heart
 The curtain has fallen, oh we shall never let go
Even if death do us part.

© 2011 Sampoorna


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Added on June 23, 2011
Last Updated on June 23, 2011

Author

Sampoorna
Sampoorna

Hyderabad, India



About
A sensitive cynic, basking in all the typical characteristics of your typical Capricornian. No cockeyed optimism here. Just a fuelled realistic vision of everything...oh no fantasy bans though :P cont.. more..

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