“Love, more love” she says to someone,
She is pretty one in her first loving
That resolves into irony, and this is
Her sneering on her husband’s hideousness,
That keeps her in pain, not being able to feel
Joy in his homely regions and love sensing.
He makes an order by telling her:
-“Wear golden ornaments to attend marriage party.”
She fails to protect her to hold her assets intact,
She fails to purge summons that may alert her
To resist the designed trick that plays in him,
She wants peace, no dispute she wants to inflict.
She does not feel otherwise to bring all ornaments,
And wears them all to please her husband
To make everything settled in confidence of love,
The minimum call, she has to obey, not to debate.
As if she is in direct culture of renews
Of love to begin first step to yield love search.
When occasion is over, she does not find her husband,
And she has not to wait for sharing loving and caring.
And she detects her ornaments are gone,
Her husband never turns around to see her,
As if she is sitting in a queen’s throne with no flower,
She has only tears to share with all on this earth.
In the wake of love, she sinks into abysmal ice-block,
She stands before her parents, who are her rescuers,
Living in silence, with only one son, the only console.
She sees only hostile way deep into emptiness granted,
By an absconder husband, a mercy of God for her loneliness,
Being it only response in her life with offspring forlorn.