The Voice
The Voice
Could a voice be so strong
Galloping the ill attired throng,
The besotted thoughts of youth
Tires my voice abated, full of ruth.
Whether it be her character assassinated,
Or men out of ego faltering her breath ruined;
The voice shuddering,
Feminism never were the wings
But equality was meant to sail her innings,
Heard a dextrous voice of concern
I swear for that anguish to burn
Whether a fight sown for a girl's soul
Or violence yielding against the terrorist role,
Whether the miseries of poverty plodded
Or violence suing a doctor, instead of rewarded;
Raise the voice to shell the shudder
Resonate the voice fruition of better
Blink of voice to shed the malevolent frauds
Smile of voice, sailing through the winnow of lauds.