Poetry: The Road to Bertha

The Road to Bertha
Mayborn Lyngdoh R

You were the poison.
That wolf in sheep’s clothing.
Blue light materialistic slut.
Who drowned me cold thinking
Killing me would pave streets of Gold,
As you said ‘I do’.
The lustful nights you trespassed the aisle
left nightmares,
I seek alcoholic dramatic escape.

Five years of rehab, reborn to
bathe the freedom of December’s sun.
The footprints you imprinted; dusty and pale,
I followed them, with purplish flowers
to an ordinary footstone,
A wooden cross, crooked handwriting,
Garland of wilted flowers.
Life is a façade,
Death the grotesque reality.

Dated – December 22, 2021

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