Prostitute!
What glory do you find,
Quenching the fiery lust of men,
Wretched are these men's thoughts,
Who procreate in voluptuous disdain.
You sold this satin body at his behest,
To beget that insignificant fortune to live,
Blasphemous this may seem,
For you are his own child too.
Society's veiled object of desire are you,
Shuns you to its very brink - an outcast.
The very act that's so sacred,
Is painted by the devil dark,
Yet I see your unblemished soul - lotus,
Aren't you for this world a prostitute?
- TS Sudarshan [ 16 Feb 2007 ]
Quenching the fiery lust of men,
Wretched are these men's thoughts,
Who procreate in voluptuous disdain.
You sold this satin body at his behest,
To beget that insignificant fortune to live,
Blasphemous this may seem,
For you are his own child too.
Society's veiled object of desire are you,
Shuns you to its very brink - an outcast.
The very act that's so sacred,
Is painted by the devil dark,
Yet I see your unblemished soul - lotus,
Aren't you for this world a prostitute?
- T
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