The very sound of that call indicated
That she was well, gone-
Which would mean no more slips in our identities
No more “No serials before Mamas and Mamis”.
No more tensed call-outs when we’d disappear, or
No more laughs about wrong or right calculations.
And suddenly, what once was just a memory
Has started feeling like a legacy.
Who thought silver spoons could be nothing but material?
Silver on silver is twice as valuable and
That’s who she wa-is.
The very sound of that call indicated
The creation of a deep dark void
One that catapulted itself upon us.
A black hole so massive yet partial
That it gobbled up the universe but let others live.
But who knew those ten minutes would be so vivid-
Clear enough to take her children to her documentary;
The documentary of the life of a fighter.
The life of a mother who taught her people to forgive.
The life of a freelance warrior who never went to war,
The life of a person, who, in an instant, went afar.
The very sound of that call indicated
The fact the no one wanted to hear.
The very sound of that call confirmed
That she was no more near.
The very sound of that call indicated
That we’d never see her again
The very sound of that call reminds me
The very sound of that call reminds me
Of that voice we shall never hear.
