The society is patriarchal,
Losing him is losing a sparkle.
But still the houses exist,
With the call of hist.
Without a stern fist,
But with a sheet of mist.
Exist in silence, without a roar,
Without a mane, without a protected door.
Is what this stereotyped society thought,
But the boys lived, who will become a juggernaut.
Or they won’t?
As there lived someone; the kind heart,
Filling the void of the brave heart.
With the flair of contraire,
Not wild but with the air of nobiliaire.
Living in the jungle, their existence in question,
The cat and her three kittens lived in exhaustion.
The exhaustion to live through in a society so wrongly defined,
The old age thinking, thinking behind not forward, and so purblind.
The exhaustion to live through in a society so wrongly conditioned,
The apathy out of it, the division and the world partitioned.
Not into wrong or right,
But into black and white,
Into man and woman,
Just to create a feeling of spite.
They are beaten, spitted on and threatened,
But the love blossomed and the hate never heightened.
The time passed through, without him,
In despair, in anxiety, the poison filled up to the brim.
But the lessons from the kind heart, the woman, rose unique men,
With the values of humanity filled like the monks outta school of Zen.
The house without the man, became again the house of, rather, men,
But with the difference and deviation from the definitions set by the wrong one.
Is it manning up or womanning up or humanning up?
Facing the demons of the society, but with a bitter hiccup.