This is a spur of the moment poem I wrote, Trying to Identify with a Rape victim in India. Maybe it’s because of all the recent talk about the documentary, “India’s Daughter”, but this is what was on my mind. These aren’t my thoughts on rape, but just my interpretation of a rape victim’s situation in my country.
The Lone Wolf
She lurks in the dark now,
Afraid and ashamed to be seen.
No more is she who she once was,
Who she once used to be.
There’s a black hole in her heart,
Where there once was light.
She used to keep her head held high,
Now she cringes on meeting anyone’s eye.
She was told she was precious,
She deserved to be cherished.
But as soon as he touched her,
Her worth became less than a weed’s.
Her soul feels dead to her,
Her body is still raw.
The world disowned her,
Now she sleeps on a bed of straw.
Her life feels pointless now,
She has no one to share it with.
She is forever tarnished,
She doesn’t know how much longer she can bear it now.
It all started in the dark,
When she tried to be brave.
She was trying to live a human life,
When he reminded her she wasn’t human,
She only ever was and will be a woman.
She didn’t want any of it,
But the world only blamed her,
They said she asked for it,
When she crossed the Lakshman Rekha.
She tried to face the dark,
Now, she has to die in it.
cuetheraven 