Woman Of The Night Poem by Akhil S Behl

Oh, thou woman of dark flesh
of swaying hips
and dancing feet
thou tempt me
like the night tempts a poet
and phantoms: a madman.

Oh, woman of an arrogant mane
hiding terrible beckonings
in thy glorious tumultuous torrent,
I liken thee to life itself:
infinite glorious promise;
and insuperable defeat.

I behold thy laughter
build up and brim thine eyes
with unbeknownst hues,
unknowable happiness. And I ask:
'Must you of the angels' kin
mock my wretched truths? '

Oh, thou woman of seeming `freedom'
must we all love thee?
Or must we all perish?
Or must we all perish in love
partaking in thy wicked secrets
stripped of our own heretofore?

Oh, mine ignorant muse,
I detest thee for I shall love you.
And tonight, only tonight,
and the nights to come,
oh, woman of the night,
I shall write of you.