Each time I fall Every moment that I find myself broken Wallowing in sordid pain of yore Tempted to flee, desperate for refuge And fear I’ve reached the end of the tunnel You come to me then, like an angel Caress my heart and soothe my soul Hold me up and calm me down Your magic words, they prod me to hold on Your tranquil presence breathes life in me again Fills me with hope and urges me to fight My innate morosity and despair Every accolade, each trophy of mine, to you I attribute Mother, my beacon of life, my reason to survive
Preeti Govada is a freelance writer and poet. Born and brought up in Hyderabad, she’s done her MBA in Human relations and currently resides at Mumbai with her husband and son. She’s currently working on her upcoming book which is a collection of short stories. She loves observing people around her and integrating their experiences into her short stories and poetry. Besides dabbling at cooking, she enjoys travelling, browsing the internet, reading and spending time with her family. If you’d like to connect with her, you can email her at email@example.com.
Being a mother… That path that is sometimes taken, that path that sometimes reaches you, and that you, even as a companion, always walks. That road full of efforts of pains and struggles but pregnant with joys, with teachings. That
The Mother Mother is bestowed with all heavenly qualities From beginning till end she remains at stake She is a shelter in severe summer like the trees God gifted style makes mother never to shake Mother is emblem of God
Am I Alive, or am I dead? Is this all just a dream inside my head? I feel like I’m losing my grip. Quick say something, anything before I slip. Nightmares slowly creeping. Has he finally come to do the
The very essence of love is uncertain, A relentless thumping of the heart. I must speak to you by such means as they are within my reach. He pierces my soul driving me into madness. I am half agony, half