bawling eyes out
are not merely tears,
but her fights,freedom and fears
caught up in heeding evil abuse,
shove from  righteous
to astray of doubt ,
ripping her soul out
that abject brutality,
her colours seems to bleed
streaming down seeking security,
Made of entire silence
without single  beat
the symphony of women
in fire
we believe ,
Ignites
colours of her  craving soul,
And
when her smile crumbles
that ruthless realm unable to cope
and then realm ,swallow  the sun
made her  bones to bleed
in external woes ,
that deep rooted tress blooms,
in bustle of life
when the spirits of fires ,illuminates her  soul
That shrine,as bright light reborn

©harpreetk1002