Azi is in pain, sad eyes, Swollen, shut
With grief for a Son languishing inside Tihar jail.
Azi wants to see her son, I read in the paper.
Air pipe attached to nose, she won’t breathe, refuses.
She needs assistance to breathe.
She needs more, her son—a reason to breathe.
One meeting - to add some life to her breathes.
Some moments - to reclaim a mother’s feeling.
Last wish, one meeting at least
Just one last time, just one more look,
Just his sight, just for a while, Just for azi,
for her swollen eyes, To subside, with her sons sight.
But, they won’t allow her to meet
They don’t open the prison gates.
Gates that open only to close, forever.
Gates that separate-- sons from mothers.
Sons from fathers; brothers from sisters.
But Mother, mother wants come in at least
And see her son from the prison bars
But they won’t even allow that
And Azi dies in the intervening night;
the news cries out the next day
Azi dies...Azi dies...
Azi breathes her last, before meeting her jailed son
Her last wish, unfulfilled
Her son, still in jail, unaware of mothers death.
A mother dies for her son across the prison gate.
Eyes closed now, forever shut like those prison gates.
They won’t open now to see her son free
But she will meet him above, in God’s kingdom.
Where there are no prison gates, no Tihar jail
Just Azi and her Son
Free to meet, Free to embrace