She sat on a template of steel forged by mortals
whose hands were stronger than that of ten trillion giants
fused together in ten fingers!
her ambience suffocated all lungs like the sight of a hungry lion
Men of might, fame and prestige dared to devour her
but one by one, she turned their strengths to dust
and desperacy fled nakedly like a helpless widow
while uncertainty smiled like a hopeful beggar,
as fear soaked the minds that sat watching
and pessimism mopped the meninges of all
Alas! a second die is cast
deities took their turn to crush her
but it turned out otherwise
strong surprise gripped the breast of men like a quarrelsome woman
knitting her husband with mischief
I then sipped my honey- the earth's sweetest thing
but it had turned to gall!
O manly woman! should I pay tributes to you for your might
or because of the evil that you wreak?
Time indeed will tell