Hands like pearls, used to stroke your hair. 

Hands like pearls, used to adore your face.

Hands like pearls, used to take care of you. 

Hands like pearls, used to write your name in sands,

Draw your face in the stars. 

Hands like pearls, used to weave poems for you,

Stitching her pain. 

Hands like pearls, used to make your favourite delicacies, would chant your name. 

Hands like pearls were only crafted for you,

But, you handicapped her. 

So, she was forced to leave your hands. 

Your hands were made of steels, 

They slitted her veins.

So much blood shed. 

Her hands of pearls were covered with blood so red. 

Red in hatred. 

©® Farheen Akter Bhuian Nancy 

Timestamp: 2.18 pm, Tea bar