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Subtle Complexities and Myriad Simplicities by Ashok Subramanian P is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.

Monday, May 12, 2008

The Family

Over the hills and far away,
By a brook a thatched hut,
A very few knew, There did stay,
A small content family,
They were four, but,
Clung as one, Each other's company,
Swimming in their fish-bowl,
Never there were whiter souls,
They'd live and die for each other,
Would kill to shield another,
Such fierce affection never was known,
Still by a brook they lived,
They reaped only what they sown,
And sang as they reaped,
Gleeful and gay as they talked,
Merry was the word for them!

To ward off the evil eye,
The lady she'd put aside,
A little prayer for the one,
With whose grace, She had borne a son,
The little boy, The apple of their eyes,
Loved by everyone just the same,
Got presents bigger than his size,
When his father went out for game,
The head, The sturdy man,
With a heart bigger than himself,
Showered love, But dealt with a firm hand,
Holding them closer than himself,
Then the lovely bud of a girl,
Would've blossomed into the prettiest flower,
If not the spite of the world,
Had shown its impeccable power!

The little one wandered on his own,
A very fine glad day,
With all the thickets overgrown,
He soon lost his way,
Still adventurous, Appropriate to his age,
Farther and farther he went,
Till he met a cur in rage,
Looked him from where the road bent,
He ran as fast as his little legs,
Could carry him around,
On his heel the foaming beast,
But the path to the hut was found,
Then the dog got him square,
Around his tiny ankle,
Then though the cur was scared,
The damage was done!

The family wept bitter tears,
Only death could help the little boy,
But his death none could bear,
But were left with no choice,
None made as much as a noise,
As the rustling leaves in a breeze,
In a moment it was all decided,
All their lives would they seize,
His favourite porridge was made,
Furtive good-byes they bade,
And then the man, Mixed the venom,
It sweetened their last supper,
They dined amidst all merry,
Even at death they would cling as one,
And now aboard their last ferry,
Their last journey they undertake.........

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