I am scared of the logs that will build my pyre,
Of the ones who will stand where I aspired.
I am scared of the dreams that steal my sleep,
Of the thoughts I chase, yet cannot keep.
I am scared of the prayers left unanswered,
As I leave this world before God has concurred.
I am scared of promises to my dad, now shattered,
Of the tours with mom that will never be gathered.
I am scared of the gifts left to rust, unbought,
For my brothers, whose joy I sought.
I am scared of the streets where I dreamed to roam,
With my sister, now lost, as I returned so far.
I am scared of the inner voice—failure, failure, failure—
Of the whispers that change after I\'m no longer here.
I am scared of those who will laugh as I depart,
Of the cries that echo, but not from the heart.
I am scared of the masks that will fall away,
Revealing the truth they could never say.
I am scared of those laughing at my dad\'s cries,
At my mom\'s silence, at my brothers\' depression and sighs.
I am scared that someone else will care for my parents,
That another hand will tie rakhi to my brothers.
I am scared that I will be replaced,
That in their lives, I will be erased.
I wanted to be the girl, strong and kind,
Full of empathy, with a nurturing mind.
I wanted to care for those I love,
To guide my brothers with wisdom from above.
But today, I watch from the sky so far,
As my dreams burn to ashes, just like my body.