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Riya Chakraborty Poem
Again the sun will rise and the moon will shine,
Again the night will shudder,again the night will whine.
Again the darkness will beseech, the sky will remorse for its stalemate,
Again her wail will lament in the hellish night, her body will be bruised and her soul will creamate.
Again the candles will burn in smoulder, again the cortège will walk,
Again the daily gazette will be flung with headlines and debates and talks,
Again the horde will scream for punishment and justice,
Again the social media will rise in protest, again the court will surfeit with another case.
Again another news will herald, another "she " will be torned apart,
Another imploring wail will groan in the sky, another predator will born with benignity full of wry.
Again another delicate soul will wane, another trust will be transformed in bane.
Again her eyes will open to witness the succour given to her,
Again her eyes will close to re-experience the horror she had to bear.
Marching, rallies and "online" protest will continue to stay, the vermin will continue to lacerate its prey,
To stop the beastly crime everyone must "stand" together, without any class barrier.
Covering the body is not important, to uncover the veiled thinking is more significant.
Not clothes but coarse glare is more ablest, for an impeccable child cannot lure the beast,
When the probity totters, even demon can be born in priest.
Woman are not for consumption, she is anyone's mother, daughter, sister or wife.
Do not pierce her soul and let her die, she can bless the world with a new life.
Let us not be the second one, but the first to secure,
Because once upon a time you may have heard "prevention is better than cure".
Copyright © Riya Chakraborty | Year Posted 2018
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Details |
Riya Chakraborty Poem
Every night I felt tormented,
When she was enjoying the blessed prestige gained.
Nobody nourished my innocence and enjoyed my beauty,
She was cherished because she has a definite identity.
I am the night's moonlight and she is the day's image,
I am perfume of the royal attire but the sacrifice is always disparage.
They mock at me in the morning but at nocturnals their lust be born,
I am their cigarette from dusk to dawn.
Nobody likes to be called by my name,
For I am not a part of the prestigious fame.
Yet they will sleep with me at night,
smelling my flesh gives them delight!
They respect her because of social recognition as wife,
But my carnal sensuality add spice to their life,
I am always rancoroused and never received a tribute,
But out of all the resentment I want to boldly say that I am not a born Prostitute!
Copyright © Riya Chakraborty | Year Posted 2017
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