Seeing off

I have to see off her, the cloudy faced,
Between the drapes of clouds;
I wish to be a bird without fetters.
Sending regards is killing me,
Brewed I got molten love.

Doffing  my hat to her is no more a fun,
It uncovers my face in the desert heat;
She will fly back in time,
The prelude is already written,
When I get my hat back.

Silence cornour'd the white-dark wall,
Can't call it black and white fencing my reach;
Boiled is the waterfall deep in the eye,
Hard to sense the snow outside,
Where 'the umbilical chord' cry aloud.

She smiled with a love-starved gaze,
Kid wondered the ubiquitous mother's face,
I can't take  the toll, rather will climb mount Everest.
The littered pieces of cake around, glittered dreams of hope in the spleen, and
The splinted doll in her hand dispersed my grief.

Mothers relate each other, communicate love better;
They translate morbidity of humanness to unforgotten bounty.
I am not one of them, rather a wilt in void;
I do have a mom like you and she,
Who consent the good without her will.

I am off to go, before she feels alone;
Handcuffed thoughts cannot breach her silence,
Have to break in to her wild dreams,
And my tossed gift of childhood,
After I see off her mother, should I go home.