HER BODY -A CHTHONIAN MACHINE OR DESECRATED SHRINE?

It was meant to be a temple,

But sadly defiled by devils,

Used as an entertainment park,

Left it with bruise & burn marks.

From the moment of birth,

Worth was judged by slenderness of girth,

Object of male fantasy,

Of her body dimensions, a harsh reality.

Call her body as chthonian machine,

Or a dilapidated & desecrated shrine,

Indifferent to spirit that inhabits,

As they scratched & they bit.

Dresses are designed in a way,

Highlighting breasts & butts, they stay,

Body is never accepted on its own term,

Here, where patriarchs dictate norms.

Advertising a car or bottle of beer,

Need projection of her body in scanty wear,

Objectification of body has become a cult,

Baring all with pride, no feeling of insult.

POETIC FLAVOURS