My Bride Draped In Pride

The first Sun of the cerulean sky; beheld her bonnie face,

The sun-drenched aroma of her skin; wafted o'er the place.

The night before; I saw her face as a moonbeam through the night, 

Bright red benarasi saree she wore; her lips unveiled her fight.

Her eyes were plunged in shyness dark; with streaks of ardent kohl,

I could see her wizened desires inside her covert soul.

A thousand stabs of vilification yearned to speak once more,

All concealed in the hush of ages yet imprinted on the yore.

Her tears no longer had the gleam of a reddened downpour, 

Her eyes no longer held the smudge that spoke of her broken core.

Her silence had miles to say and miles remained unheard,

I could hear those anguished groans that found no starchy word.

Clothed in red, her ashen soul craved to bloom again,

Perhaps; she felt my noble warmth as a last recourse from pain.

Those lousy lanes had gnawed her heart; every single day,

Her agony gasped for pristine air; her voice yearned to say.

They tagged her a whore; a befouled wench who shall feed on grime,

The shackles around her senile soul were neglected by the cream.

Those anorexic rooms too flooded in gloom made her a breathing dead,

She found no words to utter in voice; her cravings conked unsaid.

I found her soul; too sublime that cried in concealed pain,

I saw her dreams bleached o'er time; too frail amid insane.

With hues of love, I sketched her dreams; I taught her wings to fly,

I made her cherish the unclouded world and made her kiss the sky.

Her songs were no more staccato rhymed; they found a dogging flow,

A promise I made to her afflicted heart; together we shall grow.

Beyond the crust of sycamores; beyond the crummy dust,

We shall paint another world with beams of love and trust. 

She's my bride; draped in pride and I shall own her smile,

I shall adorn her heart and skin till the end of the mile.

I shall make her behold the stars o'er the acmes of bliss,

Amid the stars of tinselled glow; we shall savor our kiss.