I am nailed on to the wall, with my hands apart,
My legs are on the on, with numbness up to the head,
The last drop of my vigour is sipped out through my wounds,
You plated a crown round my heart with abuse, hurt and dirt,
You torn away my clothes except a wrap around my hip
And my thirst is not satisfied even with a cup of sour wine.
I am in the middle of gruesome devils
Who sing the song of heinousness in dark.
Each drop of my feminine beauty blooms into tens and thousands,
Hand in hand we march forward to you as a thundering storm,
'Your birth is our blessings, our beauty is your safety.
Each hand is powerful to hold your head
And each leg can tramp you down to hell.
The cosmic strength of motherhood
Is enough to burn you into ashes! '
Women power is has no limit and it has been proved right in our great epics and mantras. If we don't give respect Sakti the society is going to be doomed some near future. You have given a strong message in this beautiful poem. Thanks.
Thank you Sir, for your valuable comment. I'm very happy that you agreed with me.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Your birth is our blessings, our beauty is safety...a great poem Heartily appreciated..10