Pale Winter: Story of a Prostitute

Justice is just a dry leaf.

I was forever scorned since I was six

For someone quenched his thirst with me!

Knocking me down in the red city,

My own parents disowned me.

They ceased me and my eyes 

from entering the temples.

Thorny roses and 'stinky tulips'

Did lay down in me every night.

Life was never fair to me,

Being a girl was a curse

Indeed.

At the age of twenty 

I decided to forgo my life 

But that night I found a ray of light.

He became my full moon 

And we were blessed with a girl soon.

Unlike the moon, he left at last.

Pleading for help I reached my start 

—The red 'scar'.

I bared the glares, I bared the sights, 

I accepted the pain, I accepted the lies.

But sea touched the sky,

One fine day they 

burnt my child alive!

No lavender could spare their lives,

So what, if I barter my body,

why my girl had to pay its price?

No police, no court have the right 

To spare those cannibals

Who took my child's life. 

Flying colors seldom oozed her way,

Beneath the teardrops 

more than Space. 

Trees may once breathe oxygen 

But unlike me, my girl

Could never sell herself!

Winter breeze scented pale 

When this world didn't accept 

I was a prostitute but my girl 

Was an untouched independent female. 

She was the child of sunrise.

Begging justice for her I realized 

There's no value 

of a prostitute and her child;

I was asked out at every gate.

There is no law in this world,

Yet again I lost my faith.