A Helpless Soul

                                                       Pic Credit: Google images

Peeped through the half-sealed eye lids,

At those wore a sorry face in gloom. 

A murky canvas smeared in dark shades,

Of all kinds, stood still though.

Soul seen panting yet calm,

Refusing to concede its defeat in haste.

Yelled at all stood around in shrieks of pity,

Trying to prove its exit ‘too soon’. 

‘In haste’, the soul blabbered yet futile, 

Wrapped in the episodes of defeats and shame,

Crimson wounds that spilled gore in haste,

Coloured the vultures’ claws that torn her tender flesh.

Ripped apart by the lashes of slurs and shouts,

Of those reckless rogues who unwrapped her,

While laying her bare before the craving vultures.

She wasn’t a failure, but failed the crowd,

Who craved for her immaculate soul,

That hid beneath the shame and abashment. 

Helpless, and martyred ‘too soon’. 

Failed all those who mourn her fate.

Forgive us dear daughter of Manipur, 

Let your soul be clothed in dignity,

Failed us you, helpless soul though. 

The colour fades, and the eyes shut,

The soul finds its final rest soon.

Away from all blot and blemish,

Of this pervert crowd.