The darkest night,
Stars, in all their brilliance,
To bring light, were vainglorious.
Trees loomed higher and highest,
To black transformed,
Looked over the moonlit shadows,
Creeping over the sands, melancholy!
Away in darkness,
A figure fled,
Seeking her soul’s abode,
Through the crimson mires,
The howling winds,
Her tattered attire flowing behind.
Her eyes; panic stricken,
Searched the diabolic night.
With dread and death,
She shivered.
The dark beauty, to her, not enchanting,
No life, only survival.
From there… from where?
The arrows came,
Sharp and fast.
The blood stroked her tears,
Streaked her heart,
Her throbbing heart; pierced, silenced!
The last whimper, ‘why me, why me?’
Yes, why her, why her?
Why us?
For what crime, what sin?
For giving life?
For the love? The nurture?
Or for the devotion we offer?
She was tormented, tortured,
Murdered!
The reason-a woman she was.
Here be, how many shes?
How many with no words, no speech?
Within the walls, bound by duties,
Restricted, constrained, forbidden.
Laughter died out, tears dried away,
Hands tied, legs bound, lips sealed,
Because, only because, she is a ‘she’!
