From the pen of a woman!

I burnt the effigy of the old customs

Is it  a sin,

amidst the snowy chilled world Iam standing,

Grant me thy courage to withstand

And  forbear the ransom

That which strangles my existence….

 

I , born to be thus,

A silent crusader,

A life long fighter,

What shall then

stop my battle…

behold, I watch the world mutely,

beware!

my ink  screams with utmost intensity!

 

The  pen  dwells through my veins

narrating the tale of agony and miseries!

does the splendid  ink speak of glory

or stories magnanimously  told as lie!

 

whatever it  echoes , it shall resonate

the sordid  reality

of   mankind!