This goes on...

 

My pen pains to paint the verse.

Ink bleeds on the blank sheet.

 

Daughters’ Day, Girl Child’s day, glittering global days.

Pedant people with talk shows on Prime Channels.

Ms. with rich roles of Celebrated officers or Prime Ministers?

Crowning the cartier cluster with tales of glory.

 

The nib shivers shielding the gory icons.

A dazed place with withered amber leaves.

Unspoken pains veil in silent screams.

Frigid bodies tampered in temperature high.

 

Monsoon stained eyes wane in sunshine.

She is the rainbow to the bows and ties.

Played as lover’s waltz in the rainy nights.

Flirted with streaks of bumblebee till hazy sights.

 

A plastered plastic to playboy’s mood.

She is the commodity with 4 R’s.

Rethink, Reuse, Reduce and Recycle.

Relatable tales travelled on roadsides.

 

A coy mistress to the gangland.

Her golden cage was an inferno of split tongue.

Satan’s dark abyss, her homeland.

Dichotomy of gender guarded her once more.

 

She played doll house with her dollies.

She was played as a rag doll in red eyes.

She wished for Midas touch.

Was she not cursed with Sadim touch?

 

Winnowing the sins from her virtues.

Weaving the yarn of lust and chastity.

Standing at the scaffold to prove her sanctity.

Shrieks and yowls touching her salty wounds.

 

A scented candle flickered to fondle the fantasies.

Tampered time melted the candid wax.

A teaser of saccharine taste.

Muffled and mutilated to satiate the champagne glass.

 

My pen protests to write this day.

I ‘ll break the nib when I get the answer.