Kumari

Kumari, Kumari

She whose eyes borne of the wilderness 

no longer belongs to herself 

shadows as dark as her raven hair 

The sound of those anklets retreats into her past.

Again, again? 

Once she burnt, 

so young, so young

wrists slit and heart torn

too young to comprehend her own misery

Today she drowns, 

still young, still so young

imprisoned by another's vices, 

Burdened by a happiness not her own.

Kumari, Kumari,

She whose eyes borne from imperial fire 

no longer belongs to herself

laughter as beautiful as melancholic 

That heart can see no difference in the present. 

Again, again? 

That scorched skin barely healed,  

so soon, so soon

now it is being ripped at a whim

Seldom I hear from you. 

Named a child and is a child, now has a child of her own, 

too soon, too soon,

will she heal your wounds that bleed?

I can only hope, I can only hope.