Just walk on, carrying just you and everything else would fall to place.

The Many Men her Way

Pure as her thoughts-
were her words 
And pure as her words-
were her deeds
And all her beauty- 
lied in her character.
Whence she was worshipped as-
The woman of pride, courage and self-esteem.

No rain could wet her tears
And no winds could sweep away, 
the imprints she left once.
And her words weren't thunderstorms, 
as silence was the most she adorned 
And that was the beauty of her character
and she listened keen,
to every single person around.

The ages made her truly differentiate 
love, hate, enmity and compassion
When truth dared, to walk over 
shadows of untruth, breaking the silence
And once again, her beauty lied 
not just in her character, 
but the endeavours of justice
she promised, many men her way.

© Parvathy Ramachandran

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