My Journey

I walked with you past the beds of roses,
Hand in hand, where love composes.
You vowed to stay, my soul's one light,
A promise eternal, through day and night.

We sang, we laughed, life brimmed with bliss,
Every moment sealed with a tender kiss.
Yet shadows crept where dreams once lay,
And joy, like fleeting dusk, slipped away.

I search, I ache, for answers untold,
The pain lingers, the nights grow cold.
I cry, I crumble, bound to the past,
In chains of memories that hold me fast.

I was a girl, my heart aglow,
With dreams of love's unending flow.
But to you, I was a fleeting desire,
A vessel to stoke your selfish fire.

Daughters are burdens, our culture says,
Our worth weighed down in dowry's haze.
From brothel whispers to marriage vows,
Society decrees, and daughters bow.

When we dated, you spoke so true,
“No dowry matters, I love only you.”
But promises fade when greed takes hold,
And love is bartered for glittering gold.

“You and I are a perfect pair,”
You whispered sweetly, beyond compare.
But at your home, I was cast to toil,
A life of servitude, dreams to spoil.

From dawn to dusk, I bore the strain,
Two lives to lead, yet nothing to gain.
Your love turned cold, your words grew few,
The woman you cherished, forgotten too.

Festivals come with joy for some,
For me, they’re shadows where demands come from.
My parents, bound by tradition’s chain,
Gave till their tears could hide the pain.

Spring once sang with fragrant air,
Now it whispers of my despair.
Buds bloom, leaves fall, the cycle turns,
Yet in my heart, a sorrow burns.

Remember the night of roses and stars?
The moonlit glow erased all scars.
Rippling waters bore our vow,
A love so pure—what happened now?

Had you loved me for who I am,
Not as a pawn in society's sham,
Had you seen the wounds I tried to hide,
Perhaps our story wouldn’t have died.

“Marriages are made in heaven,” they say,
Yet heaven seems so far away.
When love is lost to greed’s cruel hold,
Even beauty withers, even hearts grow cold.

To you, my husband, I gave my all,
Yet you let my joy and spirit fall.
Was I to be a servant, meek and mild?
A shadow of love, neither wife nor child?

My mornings, my nights, my soul were yours,
Yet love shut its unforgiving doors.
I was plain, I was simple, my love was true,
But none of it mattered—not to you.

To every daughter, every woman who dreams,
May love be pure, not torn at the seams.
May hearts be free from chains of greed,
And life be nourished by love’s true seed.