THE WOMAN

She existed
For all the colours that on her,were thrown
But as time pulled away,every hue and tone,
The vermilion she adorned,
Was the only one she had ever known.
She lived for the colours mostly unknown,
But all she learnt was the red on her crown.
For yet again,a soul was drowned
In the myth of the joy of all but own.

Reviews

[Coyote Poetry]

True and powerful poetry.
"For yet again,a soul was drowned
In the myth of the joy of all but own."
It is sad when someone fade away to no-one. Thank you Shweta for sharing the excellent poetry.
Coyote

[Shweta Sunil]

I'm glad you liked it :)Thanks :)

[Coyote Poetry]

I did enjoy your work today and you are welcome.