Five foot tall, erect
Guided with giant strides
All wrapped in one
She was a marvel of eyes
Born with the mark,
The perilous mark of Cain
Which was boldly written in her eyes
She has got swift ideology
A crazy professional on job
Plying all route of darkness.
Along the poisonous night
She goes hunting for prey.
Drinks own poisoned chalice
With all graceful plight of joy
Poaching on territories of innocents
Men of wambling heart as hers
And the soul-quencher girl
Rings a bell on every street
In towns, villages of wild merchants
And rides in deep pockets.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem