I was what you wanted me to be,
I fell and rose, crumbling beneath you.
Your dreams and desires and parody
And yet I was unworthy of you.
Each time I tried to rise
You broke me, brought me back.
You gave me your advises wise
But from inside they made me crack.
And I still was what you said:
‘Not man’, but inferior and submissive.
To fall on my knees and open my hand,
My punishments and prizes I shall receive.
You hold me but I don’t touch,
While you satiate I’m blank.
These swollen glands are troubling much
But my braking self wouldn’t clank.
And is that all the story of this treadle?
Insatiable me, looking for gratification,
Tired of this golden ring and black medal,
Travelling for ravishing the men of nation?
But that is how I am known
Amongst your civilized and elite class.
The woman who quests for unknown
Miracles and looks not through your glass.
My voyages have caused many upheavals.
From ‘not man’ to ‘woman’, I’m coming close.
But what will I see? Such horrible evils
Never known; my friends or my foes?
My reflection will I see or be tempted
To look away by prejudices of mine
And vanity of yours? The tears are unshed,
Will they wash the dirt off my shrine?
Will I ever smile amidst this turbulence?
The passages I have had, the pathways
I have seen in hearts of men, dark and dense.
Will I ever walk straight in your created decays?