It rained on and on.
The fire in the hearth had long died out.
Hunger grew,
Frustration raged.
Vultures swooped down to feed on flesh.
Half willing, half resenting,
Surrendered, rather Subdued,
Desire spilled over,
Waves surging past the log.
Passion spent,
Hunger appeased,
Purse strings loosened,
And silver coins tinkled.
Amply paid,
The toil not wasted!
The reel of Time unwound itself,
And the scenes, constantly replayed.
‘Exploring hands encounter(ed) no defence'.
Each day closed in smutty h(r) ut,
When the h(r) ut turned a slut,
She started to rot.
Feeble she grew,
Languid she became,
Body thinned,
Energy waned,
Ailments plagued,
And
Immunity lost!
Now,
She lives an outcast.
A wild flower, wilted by the wind!
A luscious fruit, blighted by the worms!
The fall and withering of woman subtly described with great economy of words. Your poems always have wonderful endings. This is no exception. Superb conclusion I should say. (10)
Weather a Haiku or a limerick or a poem like this one; you always make me live through it. Feel every emotion that you weave through the lines. And finally knotting it into something so real that either I emerge as the character in the poem or actually feel one by my side.
A very thoughtful penning about the unavoidable dusk being cast on our life through the passage of time. Liked those places Body thinned, Energy waned, .... being an outcaust, ...... wilted by the wind, blighted by the worms! Very harsh though very true.
Ailments plagued, And Immunity lost! Now, She lives an outcast. A wild flower, wilted by the wind! A luscious fruit, blighted by the worms! ....so touching concluding. A brilliant poem on woman and about her plight has been well executed. Five stars.
The society is ultimately cruel to a woman who sells her body for her livelihood. Nobody remembers in her pathetic days the pleasure bought from her so cheap for silver coins (no mention of currency note) . How cruelly she is condemned. The subject in the poetic thoughts of Valsa George has attained attraction of people with hearts
The plight of a woman who is forced to misutilise her body and who becomes an outcast has been impressively inscribed with a moving beginning through a Vulture's swoop. In society she doesn't get honour and instead of it she becomes a wild flower, wilted by the wind! and luscious fruit, blighted by the worms! An outstanding poem. To my poem list.10
Certainly, it's so sad with a sympathetic mood, cheers..
a prostitute's life is unbearable and more so if it is not by choice. and hiv is never far away and only a matter of time a very moving write, thanks Valsa-10
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Emotions and feelings whether joyful or paining inspire a poet to write an impressive poem, and it has been observed that sad songs touch the heart and penetrate very deep to a point at which a soul starts materializing.