What the fire couldn’t kill...

 
She chose the flame,
That’s what they tell us,
A widow proud to leave her name,
Though that was never her purpose.
I believe she was a goddess made with ash and pain
While they worshiped the fire,
I know she felt the flame.
Gone too soon,
Now I say her name in vain.
Her soul was pure, though never seen
And she was only nineteen.
They hid their crimes in holy words,
In stories, myths and songs she heard.
No matter how hard they try,
Her absence was never meant to glorify
All their prayers couldn’t make
her that death less wrong,
She wasn’t meant to end in a temple song.
So when I speak, I say her name,
Not bound by guilt, nor sung in vain
For every pyre that haunts me still,
Was what the fire could never kill.
By Sharanya Thakare
Class 12th, Hislop College