Benediction for Women
The distressing world by the omnipresent,
The shy and the noble scent,
The mere population suffering the most,
That are humiliated and taken up as just a housing host,
That bears up all exigencies and pain,
That are churned and thrown,
Are they the cane?
They exudate of the fear of lone,
They grind their lives,
Are they the stone?
The women creed, dying before birth,
Just the creatures want a persuasive male Earth.
They serve as a mother, a sister and a wife.
But perplexing is that
Are they just born to use a knife?
The female yearn for some respect and love,
That they sacrifice at times,
Are they the dove?
They just can’t rise up to speak,
They try saving themselves of a strangers lick.
But the juncture has to arrive,
The world has to become a hive.
They who yet contemplate of women as the second rates,
Have to fondle up their mind states.
Women are not just born for the plates,
They can rise up above all the human fates.