Poetry 2013, Featured Writer Shloka Shankar

Unabashed

Life had passed her by
While she stood still,
Fragmented and hurt.
Splashed with colours of every hue,
She was resolute in her stoic
Embrace of reality.
Like every other woman,
She wore her mask of happiness,
And rivalled Eve as she once again sought
The forbidden fruit;
This time, to break free from
Her manacled existence.
Naked, with wisps of hair about her,
She clawed out of the man-made
Prison called society,
The very image of Godiva.
She looked at herself in the mirror
And saw the shards of
Her existence shatter,
Smiling a ghostly half-smile,
Pale and wounded,
Yet victorious.