Her once sinewy hands are now quivering
The rusty album has perhaps become too heavy
For her feeble hands to hold.
As she turns the pallid pages
The memoire of her life starts to obtrude
Vernal era of her life is over
And enduring autumn has arrived.
Her sublime face has become pale and puckered
The bloomy hands have crumpled
Her lustrous skin has been left languid
And it’s radiance has been lost into an abyss unknown
Maybe jitters and worriment have engulfed it
Her slender fingers which once cradled her infants
are now unescorted
Craving for someone to uphold her
Relic of treasured memories has amortized too
Turning the oasis into a graveyard
The story she wove on the fabric of her life
is about to end
Why she has to see the climax alone
She finds it obscure to understand
In response to Fabric
Pic credit Unsplash
Rythemic Vocables 