Gauri Lankesh
(For all brave journalists)
After drafting a story as dark as a new moon night
Her signature was like an arc of hope.
Tales like a gridlock
Shredding our sheaf of horizons.
She didn’t need a masthead
A flag hoisted sky high
Altering the patterns of constellations-
All part of a story inked at day-break.
Before she saw the light of the day
The searchlights from the tower woke her up.
Her name reborn,
Part of another story
Another font.
