Maria's Blues

Our conversation still lasts

By my friend :

Maria had swollen eyes,
swollen with rage,shock or guilt,
I do not know..
The mist in them clouded the crystals they used to be.

The fields lie barren,
her father used to till them..
Orphaned like her on the alter of hatred.
But who will sing songs of sacrifice
her father made for me...
or her maybe.

She searches for a sunrise,
which sleeps inside her,
potent enough to change the way rainbows used to be.

and I have a deep resolve;
To spread the warmth abound.
on the fluorescence of rice saplings,
yet unsown
on those friendly fields

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