Awsaaf Ali

Rookie - 10 Points (27th August 1997 / Hyderabad, India.)

The Rape

Busy street hath t'en tranquility kiss'th,
Along my footsteps mild wind blow'th,
Bottle o' absinthe hath the stranger consumed,
Never to notice, an' leave my body doomed...
Hold'th he, my hand, to check the chime,
Throw'th he, t'at bottle o' wine,
Pierced his nails in me as I try to escape,
By t'en he tore open my velvet cape,
Feeble bosom o' mine with palms hath I covered,
As his garments in my sight, he lowered...
I screamed as the animal in him broke its shackles,
As he tore down the walls o' my genitals,
With continuous strokes, numb hath I lie,
Wishing o' the same street, instantly I die,
Pointing at the church, I murmered, 'why? ',
Even after he left me torn,
The gods silently looked at me, never to reply.

Submitted: Friday, May 30, 2014

Topic of this poem: Pain

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  • Gold Star - 12,971 Points Chinedu Dike (10/3/2014 2:48:00 AM)

    You are very good, reminds me of Dracula. For reasons I do not know I find your works very interesting and unique. Thanks for sharing. Another addition to my favourite. (Report) Reply

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