Whose sanctum bears, the soul of pain
And love, no less, than a sublime sin
What it takes to go, against the grain
Is it fire of penance, deep within!
What made her lust, for the Adam’s seed
Blessed banishment, from paradise
If it wasn’t Lord, who prophesied
A brazen truth, amidst all lies!
The breasts that sprout, from her womanhood
Love’s chalice, that’s beneath her lap
Her smile is all, but a lasting hood
To hide the stitch, where the two overlap!
Is it inbred flaw, or fortitude
To be, an endless yarn, pensive
For which pain, is the lone prelude
In a deep mystique, ‘Why Mothers Forgive’!
© 2017 Vikas Chandra