She was locked up in a prison cell.
She lay waiting for tomorrow
not knowing if it will ever come
Or if it does, how will she ever know?
For there was nothing in that cold prison cell,
But the cold ground where she rest her weak body
And light was a luxury she was cursed not to afford.
I saw her suffer from one pain to another.
Those inexplicable aches from too much longing,
The moaning of an empty being
She wanted to fill.
It was a thirst she couldn’t quench on her own,
She was nothing but a dying ember,
Flickering at every blow,
and soon will turn into mere ashes
Defeated at the death of the last spark.
One thing is certain.
She will soon die and depart in that world miserable,
and when it comes, it would be the end of her pain,
From the agony of life, she went on suffering the agony of waiting
Uncertain of the agony of death that is yet to come.
There was no hope.
But just when the last spark began to die
The love of her mother ignited her heart,
Kept it ablaze, and burning.
For once she felt the warmth of a touch
Light was lavishly given her,
and her thirst was quenched by the everlasting water
That revived her life and gave her hope to live.
Three decades of confusion
And finally she understood
She was a prisoner pardoned.
She was a sinner commissioned.
To live as a witness of the love of her mother
To redirect her life and regain the honour of her Father.