To her, good fortune, she was, one year shy
Of womanhood, which, wouldn’t have fetched
The priciest prize, for her, half-truth, and lie
On her, ‘royal sinner’s’ face, now, firmly etched!
Woman, can bargain, o’er and, o’er again
For, every night, she slept, with any man
When, after an age, she parades, her, ‘pious’ pain
And, play out, the farce of, feminists’ plan!
There’s no, hotter news, than “A Woman Raped”
Who indicts, ‘a ma(o)n-ster’, in feminists’ court
Baptized, by her tears, ever videotaped
Delusions, are, our truths, dare, we distort!
How well, women sell, “Weaker Sex” stigma
Since, a scheming species, they became
Sin is, their profoundest, enigma
In The Game, Of Their, Feministic Sham(e)!
© 2022 Vikas Chandra