Shringaar

(श्रृंगार)

A voguish woman, SHE
Look closer, aye Man.
She wears all her makeup
Like none other ever can.

Her foundation of tranquility
Paints her phlegmatic tone,
Soothing the tan of her raging fire
Her passions, you couldn’t reckon.

But those flames of fury
Can no man ever hush
They glow rouge on her cheeks
Through her modest blush.

The eyeshadow of compassion
The eyeliner of perfection
Guard the secrets of her soul
Which, her eyes leave out open.

Encompassed in her concealer,
Are those carnal desires,
Which she wouldn’t let loose
In the strands of her attire.

The lusty cherry lip colour,
Subtly sings of her confidence,
With the soft glint of gloss above,
The “taj” of prudence.

Her cologne, fresh and strong,
Marks the scent of her will,
Her nails, soaked in varnish,
Her armour chiseled to kill.

This is the make up she wears,
The woman of the dawn,
Aye man, it’s time, step back,
The WOMAN is no more your pawn.

One Comment Add yours

  1. Aman Gupta says:

    Wow, amazing piece 😍

    Like

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