Which bane renders, your existence
To be an endless, vain crusade
Is Womanhood, in every sense
Pride, love and angst’s, true escapade!
So what you search, and what you seek
Since that birth, of a woman, in your soul
You are the martyr, to mystique
Of God’s guile and, man’s hyperbole!
I smell your menses, everywhere
Thru the pages, of your ingenuity
Embodiment, of your despair
‘Misogynists’ call, your “Self-Pity!”
Who caged you, in this enigma?
If not that sin, then whose avatar
Is it self-deceit, or Lord’s fatwa
You Ain’t Beyond, The Woman You Are!
© 2018 Vikas Chandra