AN ODE TO THE YOUNG LASS

Teetering life on the violent edge of the world,
Menaces with folklores that cast a chill on the most avid nerds.

A young lass, amassing the cocoon strands,
Falls prey to thou lores; and embellishes the silky floral band.
She’ll adorn it on the day she gets hitched,
Hoping with the knot, her broken pieces too get fixed.

Draped from head to toe,
In a burgundy gown and unsoiled stiletto.
She creeped for her post marital dinner date,
Into the dreadfulness; wincing in silence how destiny switches fate!

Cognizing now on the edge of the bed,
How much during the night she bled.
Cries foul over why she was only undressed,
And why there’s no ritual of helping each other redress!

More broken than ever; she feels,
What a fool she was who looked for salvation in those brittle reels.
After sobbing for long; in excruciating pain,
She summons herself to wash those stains.

Years later, “Oh! What a bait marriage is”; she exclaims,
Straying one away from the thrust is all it does, she claims.
It enunciates like a dream with profound glory,
But quips in the name of regret as an unsaid story.

Teetering life on the violent edge of the world,
Menaces with folklores that cast a chill on the most avid nerds.

-D. Sharma

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