Life gets shitty with her scandalous talks. Nobody wants to go with her on long walks. Sarcasm is her cup of tea, which makes her tormented heart care free. She is not a bird but a caged sparrow, that has made her way shallow. Everyone laughs at her self- mockery, but little do they realise about her jeopardised crockery. She has a heart of gold which gets sold because of her black mole. Her eyelashes have a story which talks about her hidden glory. She cannot be anyone’s history because she carries a darkness of mystery. She is a mistress to that Prince whose wife calls her a pimp. She lives the life of luxury with caged ornaments of judiciary and boundary. She wants to be that runaway bride who wants to feel the ambience of air. She wants to live for her future is to die. She doesn’t want bondage and tacky tags but a respected name. She wants to show everyone that she is not a matter of shame but a name, used for fame. She lives in a palace where the walls are too strong for her own voice to reach her. She is never bounded by customs for they are meant for princesses.
She was once a princess who got defeated by a chivalrous warrior. He was a warrior in name and had nothing to give her in name. She loved him with her whole heart, but he made her the toy of every man’s hard rock. She lives the life of misery painted with a smile and a tear drop of glycerine. She cannot fight for the world will never grant her this right. She wants an escapade which can set her free from this jingled bondage life.
P.S : This is neither a poem nor a verse and not even a prose.. So I am confused what I ended up into. Feedbacks and suggestions are welcomed