The Song Poem by ritwika raha

The wound was raw,
The gore was red
The wind was cold,
From the north it fled
I shivered with cold
In awe, disgraced,
My flesh all fresh
With life all dead
I wept out loud,
And more it bled! ! !

The face all charred
In the flames of shame
My flesh all smeared
A profaned name
A Million bruises,
A hideous game
A muted object
And a soul so lame! ! !

Disgraced and abhorred,
A woman I was born
To tear my heart,
A journey forlorn
To bleed and live,
And feed life along
A hateful beauty
And a lamenting song! ! !