O damn the conventional
Parents'arranged marriages!
I don't want to see his
Face. Nor does he mine
No feelings. Zilch
Our kiss, if you call a kiss
Is a parchment rubbing our lips
Our tongues suffocate
I block him. He blocks me
In frustration we suffer
Castrated, neutered we now both feel
And yet we both could not rebel
We are utter strangers
In a cornered nightmarish union
Love by prescription
A marriage made in hell
Imprisoned, oppressed
Our lives out sucked
In the dry sahara of love
Clad in shrouds we're dead.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem