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Accursed
Accursed
1 min
258
She stands behind the wooden shutters
Sunlight filtering through the slats
Bathing her pale face with coloured dust
Colours of Holi denied in her white canvas
She the accursed!
Denied to participate, colours don't touch her white pallette
Death stole her mate, consigned
to remain the black widow
She the accursed!
She remembers previous years
Being dragged out of bed
Powdered with gulal;
Her beauty even more enhanced
She was loved!
She the accursed, stands apart
Watching the gaiety, sprinkling of colours
Plucks up her courage
Scrubs vermillion on her face
Playing Holi with herself.
