My love is not an icicle, not a snowflake,
not trapezing for cover in a snowstorm!
But honey dew wherever it belongs in the
cover of cherished ones. I have a typical
answer to all your questions, if you seek my
veracity in AI-generated inquisitions:
My Mother Maria told me: “Let it be”, words
of wisdom, even if she didn’t prefer complacence!
I am just looking for a little reclusive reinvention
where regret has no place. I am a bridge to my
Mother’s past as much as her future. Look,
my pets were unjustifiably infected with Cancer!
I know Cancer is not a subject of dispute in
Uranus. But how I felt their pain in their dying days!
Six months before my Phunnu died, my Dad told me
“Phunnu is mine from now on,” even if my tears
couldn’t hide the pain. And my Cassul died of Cancer
too. Did I bequeath her to my Mother? What is pain?
We can’t deny the arthritis poking in our bones as we age!
And is Cancer a slow death; my poor pets! I am demanding
restitution for all my pain. The culprits know their evil!
Even if all good is in vain! No! My tears are not in vain!
Nor my blood and sweat! My righteousness is like an energy
that never falls into blackholes carved by perpetrators.
They (the perpetrators) live in their own dungeons, plagued by
their own cataclysmic invectives; as I deem that there be no
salvaging from their ultimate destitution!
God knows whom to save!
montes-musings.blog 