I did not choose it, but it chose me!

The line is drawn and

Death parts the mates-

A lonely road awaits  the remaining.

Grief blurs and blinds,

And destination is unclear.

Where does one go?

The grieving melody of the bereft crane

While her mate writhed and stilled

From the hunter’s arrow,

In emotive lays of oft-repeated lyrics,

Translated the Valmiki epic,

The Ramayanam of love and separation.

But, the crane, in grief,

Left to tread the lonely path

Never to be noted.