That day

This is dedicated to all the wonderful and brave women out there who have been sexually assaulted or raped, only for the selfishness and satisfaction of cruelty those criminals get. How do they live knowing fully well what they did, moreover how are they so daring as to hurt another being just for their sick pleasure and defy all the humanity? I really can’t comprehend that. But I would say to everyone women out there, “You are all brave, you are all beautiful. And whatever happens, don’t lose hope. For life doesn’t end there, and the courage and victory is in fight, not in giving-up.

She tries to write
But the paper stays blank
The ink doesn’t flow
From the remnants of her pen

She tries to speak
But her tongue gets stuck
The words don’t come
Coz of the blood in her mouth

She tries to express
But her eyes remain closed
The tears don’t fall
From the now-swollen lids

She tries to hold
But her hands stay put
The arms don’t move
Coz of now-disengaged shoulders

She tries to feel
But her heart goes cold
The blood doesn’t pass
For there is no life left within

She tries to breathe
But her very breath hitches
The oxygen doesn’t surpass
Coz of suffocating thickness in the air

She knows now
The time has come
The bits and pieces of hers
Shall rest beneath, numb

She can’t evince
The anguish she suffered
Her body can’t take
How she got brutally abused

Lifeless she lays
Waiting for last breath
The wish won’t be fulfilled
For she would never forget

Her tattered body
Will be buried with her pen
Her soul enduring the torment
They did everything to quieten

How her fear of
Monsters under the bed
Turned out true
Only, it soured ‘on’ the bed

Her innocence now taken
The spirit and purity pleads
For its justice now
That she desperately needs

The blank paper beside
Flickers hopelessly to tend
To recite what it witnessed
But doesn’t have a voice to contend

One last blood-curdling scream
She was now almost there
The utter silence after
Spoke volumes, loud and bare

Published by somewhere_isolated

A passionate reader and an aspiring author, I love evincing my thoughts and opinions through words. Playing with words is an art many can try but very few are able to express. It is an intriguing and interesting art, I wish to master.

3 thoughts on “That day

  1. This is powerfully written, it’s like I can hear the voice reciting this as I read it. It definitely hits home. I too, cannot comprehend those wicked ppl, and how they live with no regret or remorse. They deny what they’ve done, but what happens in the dark shall come into the light. The Earth is crying after every atrocity that happens. Justice will be served one way or another.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Yes it is true. I just don’t understand how people can get pleasure through other’s sufferings, and they don’t even realize that this is wrong, what they’re doing is so so wrong on so many levels. Like the women who have been through such experiences literally live in nightmares the rest of their life.


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