Antipath

The day, has turned to night,

My heart palpitates, fingers flutter with fright.

I roll down my sleeves, cover my chest,

Ensuring to envelope every inch of my flesh.

I gather my guts, conceal my fear

Of creepy evil morons, lingering around here,

And all over the city,

To rob women of dignity.

Apprehensions and anxiety consume me,

Of being molested, of ignominy

Or an acid attack,

By some ego-maniac.

Or of some verbal abuse,

Or of scars and bruise

Seized with terror, sweating with panic;

I’m consumed with thoughts satanic,

With fast footsteps, and some heebie-jeebies;

I pass narrow lanes and desolate allies.

And this tale repeats every night,

At all places of the town, far and wide

With every woman, young or old;

And those demons roam, uncontrolled.