I am, BUT a PROSTITUTE.

In the lonesome corner,
Of that lightsome bar,
She was standing silently.


Her half naked shining body,
Attracted the hungry gazes
and crushed morals, from all around.


Rolling in one and other arm,
Her beauty thrived with the regular beats
And her charm seduced the beasts.


In that haunting night,
Spinning around under sparkling lights,
She saw infinite drops.


Laying muted on that dirty bed,
Lost in the vanity, she realized
The sanity broken her thread.


That’s how this belle dwelled,
Around us all, in this world
Dancing around and losing along –
YES, O’ Mankind!
I illuminate your nights,
Where you show the actual face,
Hidden under the mask of virtue,
I accompany your empty hours,
The broken sentiments
And dejected heart- breaks.


For sure, I am the one
Who let go the elegance,
The silent piousness
And all the grace,
Gets raped and touched,
Licked and used,
Only, in the run of money –
To survive among you all;
The wild brutes and thirsty intents.

 

I am, BUT a PROSTITUTE.

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12 thoughts on “I am, BUT a PROSTITUTE.

  1. Different but beautifully put together!
    H, you know what I love about your writing? I love how every piece is different from the previous one. I love how you pick things people fear writing about. I love your fearlessness and how beautifully you give words to everything. Its always a pleasure reading your pieces.
    Keep writing!
    Love,
    S.

  2. Reminds me of this one thing I wrote, written by an Instagramist “Zoya Zahid”
    which was about the difference between an average woman and a prostitute. She wrote it so beautifully how both women give you access to their bodies but both are used and abused at times, but average woman ends up living with a broken heart and a life time of regret, whereas the prostitute is remains in one piece and is abused by man after man. And she wrote how, the average woman gives up her soul, gives up her emotions along with her body. Whereas what makes the prostitute strong is that she clings on to her emotions, she clings on to her soul and only gives you access to her body. I still remember reading that piece. Another thing I once came across was so deep…. it went something like “Ay Ibn-e-Adam… Hawa ki har beti tawayif nahi hoti.” DEEP!

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