Distraught in despair

She sat in solitude
With tears strolling from her eyes
Not knowing what to think
Who she was to stand by.
On one side was her dead daughter, wrapped in white,
On the other her daughters supposed father, who let her die.
Three months ago she gave birth to her bundle of joy,
Her baby girl for whom she had dreams, to whom she gave life.
But little did she know how short lived her happiness was
When grief struck her and she plummeted into remorse.
But to add to her pain and excruciating despair
Was the identity of the murderer, for whom she also cares.
She thought the tiny tot would bring about a change of heart,
The want for a son would be overwhelmed by her innocent laugh.
Her husband who was to be her child’s father and guide,
Made sure her presence from their life was wiped.
His hatred for her knew no bounds,
As mercilessly, in poison he let her drown.
Now grief stricken, and all alone
She lost not one, but two pillars of her home.
On one side her daughter lay before her dead,
On the other her husband with handcuffs, away from her was being led.
Who was she to cry for, for what was she to be in pain,
Her daughter who was no more or husband who was taken away?
Who was she supposed to complain to, on whom could she blame
Her husband who killed her daughter, or her ill fate?
Questions hounded her and a long life at her stared
Where was she to go from here and who would understand her state?
Generations of hatred and one ill fated day
Took both her pillars - her daughter and husband away.

By Zoha Tapia