A Peep Into Past

“She is mine”

The words of the Duke spoke heavy over his dine

The shocked face of the girl was evident

The love in their hearts was non-resident

Did she have a choice? 

How could she speak over her father’s voice?

Should she rejoice?

She watched her sister’s foot ebb away

Being bound, to make a man’s way

Would she also stray?

His gaze pinned on her

Her new dear.

Her world, now a blur.

Does her choice matter? 

Or will her heart scatter?

She could not hear the chatter.

Will he love her?

Or will she just be, to satisfy his pants’ stir?

Why is her brain considered an amateur?

Is it not his fault that she could not grow?

It is his fault to think she cannot have a frown on her brow.

That she could not glow.

Was she his achilles’ heel?

Or was she just a measly meal?

Or a perfect steal?

She could not stand the man

Ever since their courtship began

She knew his plan.

She knew the life that awaited her presence

Its the hell’s entrance

Misery’s Sequence.

Her labour would be much

To provide his brunch

Or perhaps his lunch?

Either way, she needs to have endurance

Without one reassurance

To provide him assurance.

And all of this because she is a woman?

Because, every month, she bleeds crimson?

Is it because she needs to produce a son?

The unfairness is real- 

without fail.

And this shall prevail.

For a long long trail.