June 13, 2010

LOVESONG OF A HARLOT

Posted in poem at 5:37 am by priya

  No rider on the horseback to call me,

 No red roses to talk to me,

 These soothing pleasure of life elude me.

‘Love’ is a sin; to be loved an illusion

Like the charmed palaces that imprison beauties 

These slums trap me in their web-

 the sticky web of cheaters;

 My body is all that they desire.

 Lost, lost is my power to dream

 For dreams chain you to pain and sorrow.

 “Are we even considered as humans?

 Do we have the right to live?”

I ponder, as looks of contempt fall on me.

No red roses to talk to me, 

No sweet music bids me to turn back.

I see lovers strolling easefully 

Their heartbeats in the same rhythm

Their faces radiate warmth of love;

I sit draped in many layers of clothes

but the numbness and cold seeps into me;

The birds and flowers talk to these couples

but they turn mute to me.

The truth I searched for was lost long ago

leaving me in the abyss of darkness

And now my soul has left me;

Left me and flown away

Leaving me like a half dead mortal.

The cold wind blow against my face

The dry leaves fall on me.

There are no red roses to talk to me,

No rider on the horseback to break my chains.