The Silence Of The Night

A memory that hurts...

The silence of the night,
accentuated by
the chirping crickets,
makes me aware
of my forgotten soul;
as waves of memories
roll along its surface,
most of them benign,
but suddenly
one lashes me violently,
shakes me with
pangs of guilt,
leaves me paralysed.

I remember my mother,
during my childhood days,
her hand resting on my head,
overcome by emotions,
on the verge of tears,
telling other ladies,
how her poor child
was once kidnapped
to rob him of
his pocket money,
and how lucky she was
that he escaped
and came back to her.

Mother, your child
was never kidnapped,
he lied to you.
Once when he was
too late to return home,
to pacify his scared mother,
he invented a lie.

Now that he has lost you,
he has also lost his chance
to tell you the truth,
and be worthy of
his trusting mother.

The guilt cuts through me,
and I let out a soft cry,
it sounds too loud,
in the silence of the night,
accentuated by
the chirping crickets. 

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