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.