where the writers are
A corpse of a woman


When I first saw her…..

Oh! She lay nude! On the hilly rocks,

 Where hyenas feed and jackals roam.

She knew no game of name or fame.

Her body lay crooked, legs pulled apart,

a tree stood in between to hide her shame.

Her  lovely feet eaten by  hounds,

and shapely arms stretched along.

her black long hair partly hidden

 behind a flowing sari screen.

A trendy bag lay, beside a bottle of

uncorked delight, Many eyes gazed,

 at this pathetic sight.

While a woman’s beauty,

scorched under the bright sunlight.

The rotting body fumed

 and emitted a smell unknown,

The visiting mouths spat and puked

at the horror of the scene.

Maggots feasted  on her

 hollow shanks and private zones.

Used and left by beastly men

 who loved her once to her known.

The corpse lay rotting,

until the corps did come,

Burnt the tree and her

 alas! up she went in flames.

She haunts my memory,

Every now and then.

A pathetic sight it was

she died thus under the sun.