Persephone

 

persephone

Of all the dastardly sins in the world –
None reeks of such depravity…
Than spilling the blood of the fairer sex –
taking the life of a goddess in its brevity.

Killed, before she is even born…
Mutilated and raped by force.
Widowed in wars, burnt for dowry…
Maimed, as she helplessly cries hoarse.

But, you do not kill a goddess.
You gaze at the universe in her eyes.
Get lost and laid in its darkness –
Only to be discovered in her sunrise.

You listen as those eyes wax eloquent
about her deepest and darkest fears.
How she was branded vile and pagan –
and abhorred for all these years.

No – you do not kill a goddess.
With sinning hands you touch her breasts.
And on that heaving landscape you study –
the seismology of her hurried breaths.

Plucky gasps of air escape in stealth –
the gag of his strong and brutal hands.
Being the last wisps of life that remain
In the crypts of her poisoned glands.

No – you do not kill a goddess.
You gently caress her luxurious skin.
Massaging it with a love so intimate –
Nourishing the divinity that lies within.

You trace her scars and map her bruises –
And with every kiss you try to heal…
For beneath her blinding beauty are,
wounds she must no more conceal.

No – you do not kill a goddess.
You worship her even as she bleeds.
Knowing that her altar awaits you –
To fulfil the most primal of your needs.

In the heat of the passion she evokes,
Erupts the lava of your molten desire.
Fanned and fuelled, by her lissom body,
The chastity of the night catches fire.

No – you do not kill a goddess.
For her blessed womb is your shrine.
Wrapped inseparably in her warmth is,
the tiny flag bearer of your bloodline.

She cultivates in her sacred fertility…
The seeds you passionately watered.
Screaming, as those that look like her –
at your hands get mindlessly slaughtered.

No – you do not kill a goddess.
You rather wage a war in her name.
Against those who sacrilege her modesty,
And put the entire humanity to shame.

You take her under your protection –
And punish the monsters assaulting her pride.
You fight for what she deserves since long –
A world where she no longer needs to hide.

No – you do not kill a goddess.
You let her rule and reign supreme.
Install her back in the pantheon,
And let her divinity glow and gleam.

For she can be a benevolent protector,
and the most ruthless destroyer as well.
Revered, she can help you rise to heaven…
Scorned, she will ensure you rot in hell!

*************************************

NISHANK MEHTA  |  18.07.2016

Bedazzled

 

bedazzled

Its been ages and I still can’t get over it –
That urge – a mad rush – to be with you.
To evaporate and condense again on your skin,
Clinging onto your petals like the morning dew.

Smitten by the warmth and love of your smile,
My poor old heart burns in hellfire.
Chained by reminiscences of unfulfilled love,
Consumed and captured by a deep desire.

I realize I was just an empty cup being filled,
by the fountain of lust that from you had surged.
Craving for the dope that was your raw beauty,
I snort on your memories – helpless and purged.

Memories of your hair falling on my face,
Like a gilded cage – enslaving my mind.
And my kisses enmeshed in your golden curls,
As I let the helix of my passion unwind.

When your lips quivered – wet with wine,
Offering an obvious answer to my temptation…
Our tongues talked in a language without words –
all inhibitions getting lost in translation.

Seeped under your skin – I still wait there…
For you to feel that incurable itch again.
And scratch to find me hidden underneath,
Throbbing inescapably in the walls of your vein.

The trail that your fingers left across my body –
The sheer heat leaving me grazed and singed.
As our bodies became naked fulcrums every night,
Upon which the callisthenics of our romance hinged.

Till I felt the white warm flesh of your arms,
I never knew how fast blood could rush to my head.
And my hormones stood up in rapt attention,
Ready to march – to where that touch of yours led.

I remember being intoxicated by wafts of your smell –
A breath, a scent – too familiar to forget.
I inhaled it as if it was what kept me alive…
That heady amalgamation of perfume and sweat.

You made me conscious of my base physicality –
As you traced my imperfections with your fingertips.
Revelling in forbidden love, as we drank together,
the spoils of the darkness in slow quenching sips.

In the depths of desire, you taught me a lesson –
That nothing in this world was meant to remain single.
It was the oldest decree of mankind and all life itself –
That two contrasting bodies were destined to mingle.

Your innocence was ripped by my nails in your flesh –
My hands coiled like a noose around your soft neck.
Infusing me with poison through your malevolent lips,
you left the ship of my desires in an exquisite wreck.

My nights were punctuated by the melodic rhythm –
Of your heart thumping beneath angelic breasts.
As the mandolin that was your tanned body,
Played soulful songs all through on my requests.

Every morning, before you put on your gown…
An infatuated sun painted your shoulders in gold.
That arousing vision still lingers in my mind…
Your sculpted shadow standing – beautiful and bold.

When you walked out of the shower – wet and dripping,
Silver light reflecting off your bare luscious form…
I struggled to hold onto the mast of self-control,
My libidinous mind ravaged by a sensual storm.

Lacing your chaste curves with my amorousness,
I discovered an addiction that had no cure.
In this sordid play of flesh and fervour,
I unearthed a joy – so unblemished and pure.

And though I have moved on – and started afresh,
Shorn off the yearning I had in my prime.
I still remember you in moments of weakness –
As the girl who bedazzled me once upon a time…

****************************************

NISHANK MEHTA  |  11.07.2016

The Blade of Rose

 

blade of the rose

In a world desecrated by loathing and lust,
she stands as civilization’s last beacon of hope.
In an unfair race run by rancorous men,
with profound dignity and grace does she gallop.

Persecuted and manipulated since countless ages,
she went through it all with a humiliating muteness.
Peeved by the brutality of the stronger sex,
she was forcefully tamed and rendered speechless.

God blessed her with such a breathtaking beauty,
that ships sailed and wars were waged in her name.
But she was turned into a toy for amorous men,
as they engaged in their own narcissistic game.

As a mother, she housed him for nine months in her womb,
and then showered him with a love so ferociously pure.
As a wife, she blindly supported all he undertook,
and stood by him through all that he had to endure.

As a sister, she tied her prayers to his wrist,
and let him become the luckier of the two siblings.
As a daughter, she did for him all that a son could,
but still failed to garner the best of his feelings.

Today, she has proven that she has all that it takes
to confront the wicked world and find her place in it.
And yet, we still grudge her that lawful equality,
and prevent her dark life from ever getting lit.

Every breath of hers has been a veiled cry of anguish,
as she yearns for a chance to give her dreams a chase.
But now she is indeed making her presence felt,
getting ready to bid adieu to those accursed days.

Yes! She is rising…like some phoenix of heathen lore –
beyond the injustice that has crippled her all these years.
Finally breaking free from the cocoon of coercion,
she is learning to conquer the worst of her fears.

She is waking up from the paralyzing ignorance,
that had eased her into a wretched life of submission.
No longer will she be subservient to his lechery –
nothing will now deter her from defining her ambition.

Do not seek to resist this rebellion…
Do not snatch back this moment of triumph from her.
Do not make her go through hell once again…
Do not deny her the right to progress and prosper.

**********************************************

NISHANK MEHTA  |  30.05.2009

Hurricane Hearts

 

hearts2

When I found you, I discovered love,
and I felt its divine might unfold.
Trapped in a storm of your fragrance,
My most lofty dreams struck gold.

You stole my breath and blinded my eyes,
you rolled my heart in alleys of fantasy.
Our souls celebrated their glorious unison,
and our minds dawdled in wild ecstasy.

Suddenly, but surely, nature began to stage,
theatrical performances to salute our bond.
Stars began sketching and spelling out words,
as a glittery horizon stretched for ever beyond.

Those little lights that shone in your eyes
Those little curls that surfed in your hair
Those stolen moments in moonlit nights
Those intoxicating smells floating in the air.

It was like a sculpture chiseled to perfection…
It was like music orchestrated by divine hands.
It was like a silken fabric of intertwined desires,
It was like a nymph sleeping on golden sands.

Together we kindled up an eternal fire,
with a flame made from sworn love.
The ground beneath your feet for me,
was a dream-filled treasure trove.

Relationships are known to breed in time,
but untested love is as good as a sin.
Fate always lays our path with hurdles,
to ensure that we indeed deserve our win.

The piercing pain of separation stung,
as we succumbed to cruel twists of fate.
My wounded soul, engaged in a striptease,
begged to crush that wailing wall of hate.

My heart got drowned in an ocean of gloom,
and a chilling silence gripped my mind.
Hollow promises and empty condolences,
failed to resurrect what I had lost behind.

I picked up pieces of our shattered love,
and sealed them with adoration’s kiss.
My eyes then had a tiresome schedule,
as I sorely wept for what had gone amiss.

I loitered in streets of lost memories,
and waited for something to do the cure.
But, ah! the wounds were so deep and real,
and the cause of it so honest and pure.

The entire cosmos whirled in disarray,
with its axis piercing through my skin.
You left me with nothing much to lose,
and strangulated the very desire to win.

I bled out great woe in copious amounts,
and hoped for sunken love to shine again,
A prayer fluttered and took off to heaven,
as my scarred heart yearned for a pacific rain.

Sometimes we love with nothing more than hope,
Sometimes we cry with everything except tears.
A sincere affection has never ever lost a battle,
and whispers of my love fell on those ears.

She returned – and it was utopia in encore,
Light again danced where gloom had been.
The world again sprang up in great applause,
for the greatest love they had ever seen.

Reality became synonymous with dreams –
Resplendent days and celestial nights.
As our love re-emerged like a phoenix,
and perched itself on unreachable heights.

***************************

NISHANK MEHTA  |  14.04.2008