The Defeated

Warrior, Victor, Vanquisher

Dark circles line your beautiful eyes in ways that would make kohl jealous.

You have carried the weight of the world on your shoulders,

And it shows.

Yet you refuse to stoop down.

Proud as you are,

That fire still burns bright.

Those eyes have cried oceans

Yet washed in salt water,

Somehow they’re brighter, more piercing.

Hollowness.

You have known hollowness,

And you have known pain.

Your smile screams tales of

Rejection, defeat and loss.

But that smile stays on,

Somehow brighter still.

That ringing in your ears-

Your cries for help that went unheeded

And now, even music sounds terrifying.

Cuts. Scars. Bruises.

Each one a blow to your dignity.

They tried to remind you of your insignificance.

You bore the humiliation,

The rage accumulated, until

You turned into a scorching wildfire.

Those fierce eyes, ready to burn all.

The tangled, unkempt mass of hair

The blood on your aching body

The shackles on your feet,

Where perhaps bells might have rung sweet-

In a distant dream.

Defeated, injured- your voice stifled,

Insulted, mocked, wrongly touched.

They wanted to silence you.

But when you strode upright, proud;

With your tired soul and bruised body,

Tangled hair and shackled feet-

Your hips swayed to the rhythm, phenomenally;

And those eyes screamed defiance.

Deafening, ear-splitting defiance.

~ Rajeshwari Tagore