A peep into past

“She is mine” The words of the Duke spoke heavy over his dine The shocked face of the girl was evident The love in their hearts was non-resident Did she have a choice? How could she speak over her father’s voice? Should she rejoice? She watched her sister’s foot ebb away Being bound, to make a man’s way Would she also stray? His gaze pinned on her Her new dear. Her world, now a blur. Does her choice matter? Or will her heart scatter? She could not hear the chatter. Will he love her? Or will she just be, to satisfy his pants’ stir? Why is her brain considered an amateur? Is it not his fault that she could not grow? It is his fault to think she cannot have a frown on her brow. That she could not glow. Was she his achilles’ heel? Or was she just a measly meal? Or a perfect steal? She could not stand the man Ever since their courtship began She knew his plan. She knew the life that awaited her presence Its the hell’s entrance Misery’s Sequence. Her labour would be much To provide his brunch Or perhaps his lunch? Either way, she needs to have endurance Without one reassurance To provide him assurance. And all of this because she is a woman? Because, every month, she bleeds crimson? Because she needs to produce a son? The unfairness is real- without fail. And this shall prevail. For a long long trail.