Athena's Ire Poem by Nalini Jyotsana Chaturvedi

Women are from. Venus
Men are from Mars
Hence, ' I promise
You nothing'
You said
At our last chance

'It's the tango
I can dance,
With you I know
I Like to prance'
To be loved
You still have
No real chance

How I detested
Those hurting words
'Will never be yours'
Not worth your earth
For you are merely
One of my herd

Buddy boy!

War of attrition
Is now on
Eyeball to eyeball
I do stand tall

I might be from Venus
If that is what
You see
But you know not
Of Athena
That quietly
Lives in me

She is a warrior
Solder to her core
A perfect marks woman
See her wield her sword

You have evoked
Her ire,
Now wait to
Hear her roar

She might
Loose this battle
But Not without
Gaining a score