I met a girl last night

Her hair a fluid lucid illusion
Her motion a brisk frisk crisp

I met a girl last night
A girl called Sri Devi
With her brush she danced
My skin, her stage

With her brush she swooned
As my heart, to her, crooned

She drew a sun, and a musical note
In black and red, with heart she wrote

I met a girl last night
A girl called Sri Devi

Shyly, she held my hand
As the music grew louder, O the band

She wet her brush, dipped in paint
Let go of boundaries, all restraints

I met a girl last night
A girl called Sri Devi

Her hair a fluid lucid illusion
Her motion a brisk frisk crisp

She drew a sun, and a musical note
In red and black, with heart she wrote

Where are you Devi ?

Up in the Kailasha
in the arms of Mahadeva
snowclad silent in meditation
while down below in their settlement
humans in the belief you've come down
adorn you with flowers with their hands
and with those same hands **** own blood
rob own kin debauch mothers and sisters
crowd your place of worship with no piety
but for selfies with your image on the background
for Devi unbeknownst to even you
you're no more the Shakti
the prowess against the Evil
but a commerce, a commodity
in the hands of men of 21st century
who know to worship only money.