Just Before Her Wedding Day.

My eyes brightened in a dark eld,
Where trees were swaying in late hours.
A night, when the stars cease to be,
And the moon welcomes the deep of it.
It was marred coition who darkened that day,
Even the little ant were desperate for the morning light.

Stilled sorrows swarmed her bones and marrows,
When faceless masquerades,
Sift her taste aside.
In sulky aches she lay crucified,
And wet the soil with hapless tears,
Hapless indeed in the slyness of a rapist.

She is the gold my mother told me about,
That got stolen in the spirit of an orchard,
Under the moonlight of a winter night.

Her breath ruffles into the garden,
With naked thighs shaking gracelessly.

Maiden, pure, vestal and a chaste,
Led apart the way to shame.
With all her stars and riddles of innocence,
From crippled days of sinlessness,
That clays the demon of carnal cognition,
Dynamism furnished with heartiness,
Biffed her virtue far away.

Indignant sapiens,
Whose brainwaves,
Whirls around dirty actions,
Amiss legality and rational principles,
That steals away golden ladies,
From our profound societies.
With lightening from the skies,
I'd like a thunder drift,
To snap their filthy souls amiss the earth.

A misery wild and raging to the ears.

Just before her wedding day,
Faceless shadows thrust her virginity,
From the globe of her cuteness.
Her past looked at her and said;
When shall your present be as me?