A Suicide.... Poem by kafil uddin raihan.

Her body was burnt,
Bruises, lacerations,
Here and there,
She was dead,
The fresh fleshes,
The burnt bones,
The clotted bloods,
The clothe prints,
These prove her pain,
What a painful dead it was?
How could she do this to herself?
Why did she do this to herself?
Only for those punk teaser?
Or for this prejudiced old society?
Or her dishonoring position to us?
May be none knows, may be knows,
But she is now only a dead body,
No other justice, no other hopes,
Nothing can awake her from this sleep.
All her hates, all her curses, all cries,
Are now burnt with kerosene,
She herself burnt them,
With her rapped, disgraced body,
Another red rose has died away,
Plucked out from the garden of life,
For our lusty, nasty, manly game,
I hate you man, I hate myself,
As I am also one of yours.....