May I Get to Quit the Race...
...death feels to be better than being alive..
The sun went below the horizon
and day converted itself to night.
Kept in a dark room,
the light was beyond my sight.
I heard the footsteps again,
strongly hitting the floor.
With hands tied and legs chained,
I tried to draw myself away from the door.
My legs started shivering
and body remained cold.
Every night I had to face the same,
since the time I was sold.
He then opened the door
and hit it hard back.
With tears in eyes and sweat on face,
I somehow hid myself behind the rack.
He grabbed my hair
and dragged me on bed.
"Be silent or you'll be beaten with belt"
were the words he said.
The body full of wounds,
required to have a soft covering.
But with the same pain,
each and every night I was suffering.
At the age of thirteen,
I got sold on the name of marriage.
At a very small age,
I faced the pain of miscarriage.
I don't know ,
how many times I'll again be sold.
"A girl is meant for this only"
Each one of them told.
I am waiting for the day,
when I'll be able to quit this race.
Even the death would be a better option
and heaven, a far better place.