The Castle in the Air!

 

The name Amita Raj, gifted her parents;

a youth, just twenty-three years old,

looking pretty, bearing a smile of gold,

she was in the morn of her life.

 

Her face was a cute bloom at the dawn,

with decent-done hair-do and modest jeans,

 to hate her, no way for others;

 her visage was painted in charming manners.

 

Her greatest dream was soaring in the air,

displaying her doctoring with faults rare.

She was content, had no gloom,

and of course her work was her plume.

 

Ready she was to follow any trend,

sensing love and mercy as an apt blend,

fixing a stethoscope around her neck,

moved she, as a kin among the sick.

 

Like a honeybee toiling around plants

Fluttering to earn dainty in plenty,

Amita kept helping for the ailing,

be off their ache by words so sweet.

 

Alas! one day, a man in rags, insane,

 sharp scissors into her neck, inserted;

 intense narcotics, very dense

had sucked entirely his common sense.

 

A doctor with a mind full of ideas

to cure sincerely, the destitute,

had built a Castle of good thoughts;

God! It was a palace in the air.