Back into the Womb

(Pic: le Jardin, 1962, by Max Ernst)

Nothing feels safe anymore

I have been to hell and back

I do not want this cruel existence

I'm waiting to fade into black

Beautiful blue waters know my pain

Thoughts wander along the barren sand

Happiness evades me by the second

Unable to produce the magic wand

The lush green trees haunt me

Reminding me of all my crimes

They were seeds a while ago

While I smothered my own chimes

A son they expect from me

Seven daughters I had to kill

My womb has become a cemetery

Trying for an heir to their will

I loved my unborn daughters

Wanted them to see the world

Those around wouldn't let that be

With every birth, abuses were hurled

Arrows are supposed to lead to a way

But for me, they pierce my soul

I'm only a child bearing machine

Confined to a dusty hole

They do not understand my agony

I'm prisoned, until I bear a son

Tied naked to a lone window

This knot can never be undone

It makes me wish I was never born

I want to go back into the womb

If I could have had it my way then

I would have made it my own tomb

Written for The Magpie Tales: Mag 191.

~ Soumya