"The Gaze That Burns"

I gained freedom,

And with it, boundless joy—

Nothing compares to this, for me.

Yet his gaze, sharp as a vulture’s,

Lingers unyielding on my chest,

Eyes slicing through my being.

This isn’t something I failed to cover,

But his stare feels like melting

On the pyre of the sun.

He stood, eyes fixed upon my bosom—

Not one, not two, but countless eyes,

Waiting for her at every roadside.

Covering my chest with trembling hands—

Even as I walked past,

Their eyes followed her everywhere.

When the fire of lust burned me

On a funeral pyre of desire,

Why did those eyes remain dry?

Why did my own eyes remain dry?

Even under the sun’s midday embrace,

I never found freedom,

Not even then.

With her head bowed,

Unknowingly, she wept and walked away.

I love traveling by bus—

Yet there he stood,

Eyes soaked with lust, fixed on me.

From the first light of sunrise,

I grow weary—

What changed within me?

My body feels like a canvas of torment,

Exhausted to the core.

Before the sun could set,

Before I could sense his arrival—

I succumbed to a fainting spell.

My body, unaware,

Returned to a stillness once more.