She's dying in the heart, 'hope' is not same as before,
she is famished, quite weak for her will,
she's been assaulted, slapped, mutilated,
over and over again,
when you said the dastard will be gone, she rose despite the odds,
but not anymore,
no lights can glow up, the street is that dark,
words have lost their worth,
its only a pack of sound, zilch of sense,
you said the jungle will be barbed, the wilds will be tamed,
sun will rise and you can sing with the rain,
pity on you, your bickering never finished,
in the houses of gentlemen, or on the screens,
but the wilds mocked you, as much as you mocked 'her'
with frozen eyes, scathed soul,
and here we are, disparaging a dilapidated her,
may be with a little taliban burgeoning in her...
~Avinash
