before they laid you under the ground.
Wedding songs pass over the virgin grave.
Your body in pieces innocent.
Somebody’s daughter, you were
a girl in the market in a city at war.
somebody’s sister, you were
a girl in a city at war in the market.
So lost you were
How many of those who
you once knew,
blown-up by the embrace of a hate hug
before your body could no longer contain
their deeds, germinating anger seeds?
Your rage blasting body is stopped
before you can enter the market
but, there is no turning point for you.
Clung to your sister innocent.
Two bodies crumbled in pieces.
This is the edit of an older poem inspired by Gautami's "Undead for Eternity" -- More on the train.