The Rape - Poem by Awsaaf Ali
Busy street hath t'en tranquility kiss'th,
Along my footsteps mild wind blow'th,
Bottle o' absinthe hath the stranger consumed,
Never to notice, an' leave my body doomed...
Hold'th he, my hand, to check the chime,
Throw'th he, t'at bottle o' wine,
Pierced his nails in me as I try to escape,
By t'en he tore open my velvet cape,
Feeble bosom o' mine with palms hath I covered,
As his garments in my sight, he lowered...
I screamed as the animal in him broke its shackles,
As he tore down the walls o' my genitals,
With continuous strokes, numb hath I lie,
Wishing o' the same street, instantly I die,
Pointing at the church, I murmered, 'why? ',
Even after he left me torn,
The gods silently looked at me, never to reply.
Comments about The Rape by Awsaaf Ali
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You