Rising From The Ruins

 

A guy born from an Indian womb,
Shaming another Indian woman—how crude.
No shred of originality within you,
Yet you say I’m the one losing control.

Your ego, your misogynistic tricks,
It is clear to me and easily fixed.
Now you think you see the world anew,
But you're just catching up to my point of view.

You were the one crippled by your own shame,
And thought I wanted you for your name?
I let go of every jibe you threw,
A simpleton with hardly any of his own views.

But did I ever look down on you?
No—yet you do, to those not at your level.
You measure by the surface, the height, the face,
But depth is something you can never embrace.

I felt all the pain deep in my bones,
And you think I can’t take on your tiny pebbles and stones?
You throw your words like they’ll tear me apart,
But I’ve weathered storms, and you’ll never touch my heart.

Will I let this go?
I stand up to people twice my size,
Because justice denied is justice died.
The audacity of you to say my care was fake,
But I always rise from the dead,
You can't kill me with a simple wooden stake.

~ Kanika Kaushal ✨ The Luminous Muse