Cleopatra Poem by Uma Sankar

They call me a rose, a red rose!
Scented, with essence of deceit.
Is it that, to me I pull those bees,
Bribe with nectar, heavenly sweet?
My petals, red hot flames, they say,
Scalds, burns and kills - the lunatics!
Men, I eat them, that's what they say,
Consume, embrace, chaperone to the grave.
A debauched temptress, me, they say,
Cleopatra, I am, the queen of deceit!

It hurts me though; they know not-
Those stings of intruders in me…
Deceit, I am called; Alas! deceived,
I looked for love! They know not.
The buzz… was to suck my blood,
Drain the nectar, draw my essence,
Never sought for what I was,
Nor ever sheltered from chaos!
Still I let them suck my blood,
Till the day, I dropped dead!