"Lying along a pool of crimson liquid that draped her body like a Sari,

the woman lay naked, except for the firy eyes to speak 

on the bright daylight that exuded from her tangled hair and sealed the convulsions on her lips...

"water! water!", she was thirsty for life, 

"Water! water!" she was moaning with pain

The human ravagers sullied her, their brutal faces were scarlet with her sacred blood...

her breast was still firm, her hands covering her modesty...

but the eues still sparkled with life, the heart underneath the tattered sari still pulsated with a deep confirmation of life...

"Water!" it was the last moan

The sun overshadowed her spirit, darkness encompassed her breath...

She was burning on the furnace...the furnace of life...till she stood up and took a deep breath...

She was still alive! And the scarlet sky was filled with light once more.......!

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This is my poem dedicated to all women who stand up against violence- the soul is never sullied. It retains its purity even after being brutalized.

Prof.Sreetanwi Chakraborty

Dear Prof. Chakraborty,

This is a poem so apt for Women's Month and all the days of the year until gender-based violence is vanished from women's lives. Thank you for sharing this with us here at World Pulse. More power to your pen!

Blessings, libudsuroy

''Every Day is a Journey and the Journey itself is Home.'' (Matsuo Basho)