In back of the door,

A young woman watches,

Naked truth without a mask of deception.


She's surrounded by shadows.

Those marred eyes, Society's curse, tight as chains.


Her sobs are low.

A lost whisper

Desiring freedom, but quiet comes at a price.


Her feet are bleeding.

While darkness spreads, tethered to walls, she dreams of the skies.


By myself at night,

A beast in her thoughts,

Tugging at the chains, she entwines desire.


She struggles, she sways,

Wanting to take off,

However, the weight suffocates, and optimism wanes.


In back of the door,

She continues to dream.

For the kiss of freedom,

in whispered screams.


Pabitra Behera 

©India