A pious and dutiful wife,
A forsaken soul, very lonely,
Obedience was her biggest virtue,
Submission her biggest drawback.
Married at sixteen,
She was an innocent soul,
A raw girl, she bloomed to a woman,
With the intention of being true and whole.
Moorland but she was found to be,
All her virtues lost their imprints,
Spouse wandered off to rosy plots.
A fruitless bine she was left to die
And when she died a shrunken soul,
Not a sprit to mourn for her,
A sad lightening pitied
And struck her corpse,
Finally to lit her holy pyre.
The discerning reader will find this a rewarding poem, at once atmospheric ,captivating and with wider allusions,perhaps to ” Jane Eyre ” ?
oh God….big big thanks louis for sch appreciation.
Vigorous and emotive. Well crafted.
gopal ji thanks for ur motivating words:-)