As the rains fall
She blinks as her tears drop
Onto the ground they gather, like a ball
Turning, she runs up the stairs to the top
Picking the phone, she makes a call
He has to be fine
“The prophecy is mine,
He shouldn’t be punished”
These are her thoughts
After several tries, someone picks
“Hello, hello?” she sought
For a reply from the voice
As none came, she felt sick
She hears the sound of a car though
Maybe he’s on the road in his rolls Royce
She hears the horn blow
She drops the phone
Now she’s alone
If he dies, he dies
She would be at his grave side
She would even join when they sing the hymns
At least, she had warned him
The rains held a curse
Her curse
His now
As a result of the sex
At least, she had warned him
Let him die, let him die
“I don’t care,” she sighed.
