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Lakshmi Menon

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His wounds cut deep, Bled more, And took a long time to heal. When the knife used, to stab him, Was from the kitchen, In his own house. And the killer, was one of his own Not an outsider. It was none other than his mother, When she could not poison his ears, she tried to take his life. She was always a giver, But givers can take away what they have given. She gave him life, Now, she had no power over it. So she destroyed what she could not control. He lived though, not like her son, anymore, Her son died the day she stabbed him. There is nothing more pure than mothers love, And nothing more truthful than her wrath. As for her, she too died with her son, Out of guilt and shame. Both mother and son, Destroyed by love, A toxic love they shared... ©Lakshmi Menon Unconditional mother's love #mumlove

His wounds cut deep, Bled more, And took a long time to heal. When the knife used, to stab him, Was from the kitchen, In his own house. And the killer, was one of his own Not an outsider. It was none other than his mother, When she could not poison his ears, she tried to take his life. She was always a giver, But givers can take away what they have given. She gave him life, Now, she had no power over it. So she destroyed what she could not control. He lived though, not like her son, anymore, Her son died the day she stabbed him. There is nothing more pure than mothers love, And nothing more truthful than her wrath. As for her, she too died with her son, Out of guilt and shame. Both mother and son, Destroyed by love, A toxic love they shared... ©Lakshmi Menon Unconditional mother's love #mumlove