Silent chains

In the shadowed rooms where whispers bind,

A woman’s voice is hushed, confined.

They say it’s wrong to judge a man,

But men judge women, so they can.

Her dreams are muted, thoughts restrained,

In a world where dominance is feigned.

To live, to breathe, with equal claim,

Is not a woman’s given name.

She marries, adjusts with silent grace,

To make the bond a lasting place.

Yet faces every trial alone,

Her patience questioned, overthrown.

When she speaks truths of her inner plight,

Society judges her with spite.

For in a world where she should be heard,

Her voice is silenced, though she’s stirred.

She becomes a mother, three daughters born,

But where is the son, in this forlorn?

When she dies, who will burn her pyre?

Yet she endures, her spirit never tired.

She bears it all, so her daughters may thrive,

In a world where violence makes life contrive.

The man she endures, who hits and shouts,

A bitter truth, that leaves no doubts.

Some men live to dominate and harm,

While women rise to break that charm.

Why do we not see justice’s call,

For those who raise their hands and fall?

Tell that man, with anger and spite,

He was born of a woman’s light.

For every hand that strikes in rage,

Should face the law and turn the page.

#Rubi.R Silwal