A Story Of An Insignificant Mother

A story
Of an insignificant mother trailed.

When sledgehammered, pickaxed
Excavated, craned and the progress of
The ceaseless destruction of
Demolished construction railed.

So is a story
Of an insignificant mother trailed.

With wings flapped and heart ached, the dove
An emblem of peace hovered and levitated for some tranquillity for itself,
As the stuccoes tore to rain
With rusted flatirons and hanging windowpanes.

So is a story
Of an insignificant mother trailed.

Her silent shrieks and mum squeals
With chaos within and mayhem sealed,
As the bricks crumpled down
And built heaps on heaths.

So is a story
Of an insignificant mother trailed.

Then some final cavalcades,
And encroaching gust
Of wrecking ball reconvened
And collapsing of the structure prevailed.

So is a story
Of an insignificant mother trailed.

Thrust onto the ground,
Smashed and crushed
Her nest that was on the old windowpane
With two little hatchlings dead and broken.

So is a story
Of an insignificant mother trailed.

Soaked and smeared was the sod
With trivial bloodstains,
As a merely existing mother
Lost her kids to developments.

So is a story
Of an insignificant mother trailed.

As the smokes of ruination came to rest
With dust of mourns settling on her crest,
Flew she away with unseen tears on facade
To an unknown destination of may be another catastrophic shade.

So is a story
Of an insignificant mother trailed.
~Nayanika Dey