Monday, September 4, 2017

The Goddess and the slave

The Goddess who sits on high throne
Gilded , covered by silver and gold,
Having all the beauty of the world
Bestowed upon her by Jupiter,
For her I find no need to write
Words filled with praise,
For she has got all of them too,
Her house is filled with adoration
Her cupboards are filled with ornaments,

But that woman who stands on the roadside
Every friday night or saturday evening,
Falsely trying to present her beauty
On a platter to be served with spices
And with lot of colors, rich,
That woman needs my words I think,
For her I would try to write poems,
Making her a fiery one, resplendent,
A comet perhaps or a volcanic thing,
I would make her quit that hole dark
And put her before the blazing sun
On a sweet summer day,
I would take her out to the park
And make her sing a song of supreme love,
Praising life and its beauty,
I would put my hands upon hers
And by the back of my palms
Cleanse her face, ( if she cries seeing the day so lovely and temperate)
For her will I compose a ballad perhaps
Narrating how innocence remains  unblemished
Even after the war is raged and dignity is violated,
For her will  I create a land of dreams
And make her dwell there,
Forever.

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