She made a choice,
Established upon her Deen
Her felicity blossomed in and out,
Yet apprehensive jitters induced a doubt.
Afflicted of their repellent gaze,
Daunted of their erratic appraise.
Within a clutched mentality,
She anxiously cackles at her rationality.
They claim she is oppressed,
In truth she is expressed.
Her hijab makes her strong,
She knows she is not wrong.
Undeterred by salt water emotions,
She conceals a somber explosion.
Visibly a simper,
Camouflaged a whimper.
Her decision was heavy,
Though she knew she was ready.
Veiling her glamour,
To please her Master.
She was still beautiful,
Yet society was questionable.
She is unique.
They are deceit.
Society damaged her.
She is broken,
Accused of religion.
Dimly soft spoken,
Due to her religion.
Cybernated demons torment her,
Trapped in a kingdom of torture.
He was the ultimate silencer,
Her detrimental enforcer.
She sat there sobbing companionless.
A territory brimming with masses,
Attentive of the digital clashes.
She was a smouldering fire,
Deserted in a hellfire.
Still they snickered at his immaturity,
The ignorant class clown’s insecurities.
No indication of guilt,
For the monster he had built.
The egotistical wannabe,
The striver for popularity.
She was mismatched.
Her paradise sealed and snatched.
They ridiculed her devilishly,
So she reformed her identity.
But from the depths of her facade,
You can’t erase the colour of your skin,
To please society.
You can’t discard your heritage,
To please society.
You can’t dismiss your identity,
To please society
You can’t torment someone for something they can’t control.
Perfection is an illusion,
Of the eternally damaged.
A diseased scheme,
To condition beautiful creatures,
To conform to fabricated ideals.
To smother a candle’s flame,
You dim the entire room.
To scratch off someone’s surface layer gleam.
You create a deep rooted scar.
That blackens their glistening heart.
A story about a bully,
Written by a victim.
Copyright © Farzeen Rashid | Year Posted 2020
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