SHOVNA

The Abandoned Boat

The wood is rotting, the roof is rusting,

The paint is peeling and water is seeping,

I may drown any moment on this very shore,

Then drift to the deep water where I will be seen no more.

I try to rock along with the waves,

So that I can move a bit towards the bank,

The oars that were broken are nowhere to be seen,

Otherwise I would have rowed myself to where I had been.

Hope of seeing him as soon as he comes is fast dying,

My body is limp and my spirit is slowly but steadily leaving,

I have only managed to just hold my head above,

But for how long my sweet darling, my  love?

My head is getting heavy and mind is playing tricks,

I look around and see that nothing has changed ever since,

It is as beautiful as it was then, when I was young and bold,

As I lay there memories of the past flash and one by one unfold.

My roof was red, the oars were green and the body electric blue,

My man took pride in me and took great care of me too,

As I would be anchored he would wipe every drop of water,

As if wiping the then unfamiliar tears, with fingers not so tauter.

When the oars used to hit the water and the splashes made music,

In our own world and singing our own song, we went along,

When into the deep river he would laugh and whistle on his own,

I used to move to his tunes, carefree, happy; but sorrows unknown.

 

His hair falling all over his forehead and on his rugged face,

Making him look even more handsome like a Greek god I swear,

The breeze blowing softly and caressing us both,

Best time of my life and without a hesitation I can take an oath.

 

Suddenly one day the sky looked dark, angry and it growled,

The rain splashed and struck us hurting like sharp arrows,

The waves hit me hard and I tried to steady myself,

Against the power of the wind and the continental shelf.

 

My man rowed with all his might as the shore was afar,

Wounded many times over by rocks, tree stubs and the riverbed,

I tried not to show my hurt and swallowed my tears,

The end of the misery felt they were never ending as one fears.

 

By the time we hit the shore the oars were broken,

My body had cracked from all sides and water was seeping in,

My man got out, threw the oar and huffing he walked away,

Not even stopping to wipe my tears, mend my hurt or to take me across the bay.

 

He did not even glance which would have given me some hope,

I waited there day and night for my man to end my plight,

I tried to call but no voice came, tears flowing, I merely stood afloat,

At my life end, suddenly it dawned to me – that for him I was but only a boat.

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