GHOSTS OF MY PASTMarch 1, 2013
Bhaya rasa or Fear by Swagata
I still hear the shrills,
I still hear the screams,
Never did I think
Even in the worst of my dreams.
Gory hands stifled my pleading voice,
Withering in pain with a silent noise.
I realized my life’s bad omen,
That I was born into a helpless woman.
Bullied and dominated by own blood,
Turning my single drop into a flood.
Why should I call them uncle and brother?
Who killed my innocence harder and harder.
Grown into a lady with a skin so fair,
My heart beat to find its pair.
His love made me calm and complete,
Filling with sunshine for the void to deplete.
Loosing him was something I always fear,
Whispers of devils my ears got to hear.
My land could not bear the only love of my life,
Dragged him away and left me alone to survive.
My wings were cut and I was put into a cage,
Lost with an unknown man in this scary maze.
Words lost value and dreams got smashed,
Muscles of my body cried when bones got crashed.
Days got dusted and nights remained rusted,
Praying every minute not to get him lusted.
Shivered away with every frightening moment,
Harassed and beaten like a deadly current.
Happy as flower to see my little angel,
Afraid if I could save her from that burning hell.
Ran away to find a solitary confinement,
To give her a life which she will never lament.
My heart goes out with her every growing step,
“God, give me strength for the promise that I kept.”
Lurking all the while are these dark black shadows,
Ghosts of my past getting through the windows.
Pondering over the never ending insomniac nights,
“Break my shackles and lead me to the light.”
Just one question to the Soul so Kind,
“How long will I live with these fears in my mind???”
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