In a barren desert, across the valley gauge,
A naked lifeless corpse lay beneath the dying sunlight,
The sun had now set.
An uneasy calmness lingered through the night.
The seven year old rested in a heap of dead roses,
The fates were thankful; for her life was short,
She had a strange content smile on her face and a letter in her bloody palm
Which read " No my child, it will not"
A few feet away,
Gliding in the gusts and desert winds,
Was another page inked with some scribbles,
"To Dear God,", the letter so begins.
"Today was an easy day,
I reached early to work & they didn't punish me,
Walking five miles in the burning sun with fever is tough,
But I'm thankful that I have some work, I'm happy.
I burnt my hands today.Jake said the coal was cold.
I picked it up and it was red and smoking,
I cried for a while but then I forgave him,
He is playful. He must have been joking.
Then the headman pierced my palms,
A splatter of blood decorated the side-way stand,
Oh! he's good. It was my fault.
I was late. I was cooling off my burnt hands.
Then I was playing with Jake.He's a cheater.
He punched me even when I was coughing,
Then he took all my clothes off. I was embarrassed.
Every one else poked me and were laughing.
I didn't like that and ran away to my parents' graves, crying,
I was lashed thrice for the same,
I have many-a-bruises,
and I heed all of them in your name.
When my mother was dying, she handed me a desert-rose,
pointed towards the sunset and begun to descend,
With pain in her voice and glint in her eyes she said
that the sunset symbolizes the beauty that's present in the End.
So I wish to see the sunset again,
I wish I lay in a grave of roses someday,
I think the sunshine hates me,
Even I don't like it anyway.
I am ending this letter now,
I don't know why but the birds are singing some long-forgotton sorrow,
I can't delay my sleep any longer,
Tell me God, will the sun shine again tomorrow ?"
