Save The Dying Embers

A sheen gem she is
Innocent soul is hers
Child on her back
Progeny of a bustard
Seed of her innocence
An innocence smirched by the barbaric hooligan
Who has no care for naive souls
Hades is his perfect asylum.

She roams the streets
Amasses what she can from whoever cares to listen
Her daily routine this is
As she strives to get something for her young to survive
Her little one's shrill cry is her shoving force
She smiles at the jamming vehicles
Hoping she will one day get out of these binding chains
And ride her own.

Watching girls her age roving with their parents
She reminisces her own and goes bitter
Her very own manslaughtered in the post election violence
She watched as they were murdered like flies in cold blood
And she was perhaps favoured by luck to be alive
And life hurled her here
The place that has since become her home
With no family or anybody to cry to
And she is getting jaded
It's been a long wayfare
A forlorn and sterile one
Her spirit willing to go on
But her physical being disinclined and wearied.

Few give her an ear
Many taint her a lewd and dingy creature
Eating from bins and pits
But behind that frail body dressed in rags
Lies a beautifully clean soul unbound
Behind that melancholically glum smirken face
Lies a tome untold
A story of a dying dream
A story of a tiring soul
The story of a dying fire of life
Who will save these dying embers?