Luck

There are no losers in life,

Who have tried and again tried, 

With soul and song and might,

Yet chanced upon Luck's lost side.

Success to one isn't to the other,

As Luck and Time play a different hand.

So try all you can, and then give in,

And try again on some other band.

There can't be winners without losers,

Blame not yourself, it came undone.

For you have played the game of life,                                                                                                                         And by playing you have won. 

Hanged

Strangely, a bright and happy morn,

For a day that ends, a soulless moan.

It's when man's laws would end

The life of God's forsaken.

The gallows stark and empty of hope,

the stench of  death garlands the rope.

Witnesses wait to see a soul damned, 

Not by Death, but by the hands of man.

The scales of justice had not tilted his way,

Noose on the second and third vertebrae. 

One last breath, the dregs last whine

Black bag over his head shuts out time.

With a prayer to the great whoever,

She finally pulled at the cold lever,

Killing a large part of herself, 

While the other hangs, sans self.

The planks gave way to dark emptiness,

The rope shivered hard, finding rigidness.

Then death calmly swung around

till it stopped like a rod, dug in the ground.

This was her first, but more down the way,

'Coz the condemned are born everyday,

Hung, hands bound, legs tied with leather,

Noose tightens, another drops into the cellar. 

Inspired by the book Hangwoman (Aarachar) 

by K. R. Meera, translated from Malayalam by J. Devika