SS (09/05/1986 / New-Bombay, India)

Runaway Woman

She is looking so pale, so ill, so ugly
Her looks was the envy of her place
She was in love with a man, they say
Was a man of losing words and faith
She knew the blade she was walking on
She was well aware of its edge
She tried her self and her luck
And rode out with him in tow and afar
Nowhere was she to be found again
But one lone night she came back
With stories untold of her gory past
Her love was tested by time
And she stayed afloat, content with luck
She set out of the town, beauty on ride
Never to come back the way she went
Pity was in air and dislike too
Words flew around on her arrival
She was in love and that was it
She was in love with a man of low means
A man they called the assassin
She was in love with the bad he wore
And his death was her stepping stone
She came back to her old self, not sorry
No regret of any sort, no feeling of wastrel
She has no kin to go out or in
For she was love with an assassin!

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