The Honoured Barren Tree

By Achinthya Prathish

In a faraway nation

A scream of a woman is heard

The moment the scarlet coloured moon rose

Similar to the blood dripping from her throat

Some figures silently buried her body into the barren land

In front of the whole village

Some women wept

And some hushed among themselves 

They said that;

She deserved this

For she has allowed herself her womb to be defiled 

And bring dishonour upon her family and village

They knew she was helpless, yet,

They resorted to blaming her while her Perpetrators stood by their side 

Waiting to prey on their daughters 

The sky rumbled 

And heavens started to cry

With occasional howls

That sounded like a dying heartbeat

Everyone scattered away to their homes

While the rain was pouring hard

Her graveyard soon bore a tree

Sustained by the tears of the souls of similar fates

The tree was barren

Except for a few leaves here and there 

And a golden fruit that lied at the lowest branch

Trying to lure the villagers 

At dawn, the whole village gathered there

Their eyes on the golden Apple

For they thought that this must be a gift from God

For reclaiming the honour of their village

But they didn't know to whom it should belong

Soon, they started to quarrel 

And fight with each other

Turning the barren land to a warzone

Each and every one killed one another

Stating it was their right to claim God's gift

Soon, there was no one to claim the golden apple

And the barren tree crumbled away into nothingness

By Achinthya Prathish