My Love died last night

Why do you cry little one? There is no one here who will hear you.

Your gasps and tears are wasted, your cries will break against deaf ears.

Where is the mother who sang you to sleep while you snuggled in her bosom

The bosom that enveloped you with a sweet whiff of the milk

Is it her that you seek out now while you cry out wildly?

How do I explain to you that she is dead while you hold on so tightly to life?

She had to die, for she spoke a language that is banned, is now deemed evil

Because she wore her sari differently, because she cooked her food differently

Because, the songs that she thought were beautiful, are now deemed obscene

Because the dance that unleashed her spirits is now to be purged as it is vulgar

Because, ideas change in time, but the young foot soldiers think they are permanent

They are willing to live and die by the words of their chosen masters

They held you by one of your hands, and they debated if they should kill you too

I tried to stop them, but they beat me senseless, and ran away when they heard the sirens

We must pick up the pieces now my sweet baby, and we shall trudge ahead

But do not ask me to give you love, for my love died last night