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| Photo by Ed Ross |
Ah! There she is
How gorgeous beauty!
With roses pinned in her tresses
Fragrance has a new name today.
Her lips so full
Colored in blood, all inviting
Many a men set out to play
This game of flesh & desire.
Her body all adorned
Prepared she is, as a martyr
Every moment she is killed
By her acts sensuous & seductive.
Hungry eyes gnawing at her
Every inch scanned n lusted for
Who remembers if she has a soul
All she remains, a pretty object.
For once peek in the eyes
Screaming they will be, begging
Leave me alone, let me go
For once let me smell
The fragrance of those roses in my hair!
P.S.: Loved writing this for Magpie-Tales #301
The brutal depiction is terminal leaving little by way of salvation of humanity. Any vestiges of hope, O, Poetess?
ReplyDeleteThe brutal depiction is terminal leaving little by way of salvation of humanity. Any vestiges of hope, O, Poetess?
ReplyDeleteIf only they would care to look her in the eyes but they crave solely for flesh. Oh can't they hear her screams for more than just that...you capture that essence so clearly. Women as food.
ReplyDeletethis poem is so piquant. esp this line 'Who remembers if she has a soul' touched me. lovely
ReplyDeleteThe fine line that must be walked. To appreciate beauty unselfishly is...for men...the height of maturity.
ReplyDeleteGood one :)
ReplyDeleteGood write.
ReplyDeleteThanks for visiting.