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Weeping

  Shackles upon my hands and feet…
chained to you.
As if I am an animal – a savage beast.
Binding me as though
I would ravage your houses at night.
Yet you keep me
for my sensuality and your pleasure.
You shower me with false words of love,
and true barbaric sounds of lust.
Who is really the untamed rogue?

Weeping. Crying. Sobbing.
The tears cannot begin to console me.
What has become of me?
Once exotic and new, respected and cherished.
Now old and mundane,
Forgotten.

I may be sad, but I am not shattered.
You have not won.
My titles and clothes are ripped from me,
But you did not conquer me.
My spirit is strong and true.
For that is unbreakable,
And the embodiment of what is unquestionably me.

21-Apr-2002

More by :  Sushma Raman

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