She is a bleeding portrait
Living in the shadow of patriarchy
Pouring tears to an empty pot,
But not questioning meaningless existence.
Waves of darkness in his
Heart and eyes tied her hands
At the end of a brutal tale,
Since she is scared of even sunshine.
He painted her sky in red
Thus her purple skirt turned
Into bloody red, blood stained one!
Wizard's lust crumbled her purity.
Frozen tears of her mother touched
The fallen leaves and withered flowers
Broken tales of moon giving light to heal
Shrinking her to the home of wingless joy.
Losing herself into victimhood,
Hopeless about life inside womb.
The death of a virgin young lady
Happened under the roof of chauvinism.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem