Poetry

Her Unscarred Soul

She looked in the mirror
Tears dropped down her face
She looked at the photo frame
A weak smile, few more tears
‘I was beautiful before’
She said.
Days have crossed since
Yet still she can feel the burn
Like that of an angry fire.
Her nights were full of sweet dreams
She used to dream in daylight.
Now, She hears herself screaming
In her dreams, every night.
Wasn’t it meant to be her decision?
A yes or a no.
Then why is she paying
For something she had the right for.
That was one moment
His false pride was hurt.
That was one moment
When the revenge touched her skin.
When his revenge burned her.
Today, she is in front of me
Her head isn’t bowed down
She walks out with her grace
She has refused to back out.
The scarred face
It shouts of her strength
And the unscarred soul
Sings of her vigour
Her voice trembles
Not with fear
But with overwhelming power
Where did she get this from? I wonder
And then whisper to her, again
For, this is all that I understand
‘Yes , you were beautiful before,
Now, you are more beautiful than ever

Isn’t she? For they can scar our body but can never scar our souls.

~pramegha

7 thoughts on “Her Unscarred Soul”

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