Sunday, January 11, 2009

Therefore, she lives

With today, the genies and fairies have failed her.
As the clouds gather, she braces herself,
Revelling in the silence, before the storm.

Her sun, his warmth he has extinguished
But not before he has left her singed
Sliced her with his words, she bleeds.

For the sun chose her himself, not her; him
He willed her to be a lotus, his own,
To rise and fade with him; she was smothered.

Independent she is, the gay wild flower,
Her mistake she acknowledges; amateurish, hasty.
And she forgives herself, and she forgives him.

For the storm may come, but she will remain,
Rooted firmly, she knows, this too shall pass
She may wilt, but she will blossom again.


Sandhya said...

Loved it.. The last line seals it. "She may wilt, but she will blossom again." **Hats off** to the spirit of women :) Awesome Gitu..

One Bizarre Scribe said...

mixed imageries? :) ..nice reading though, kudos.

irfaan merchant said...

it seems a nice read... it seems the person is in pain.....due to this the imageries went mixed

Inder said...

A beautiful one... especially the last line....