An Ode to the Damsel

Oh dear damsel,

Of smooth skin and wordless beauty,
Why is it that blood is spilt,
And lives lost, in your vain pursuit?

Oh ye of beautiful face and weak stature,
What is it you do,
To mellow rigid hearts and melt armours?

Why oh why, does your memory,
Bring tears to the dryest of eyes,
That have never known them,
Even in the worst of their pain,
Stop not for an instant,
Before they let their hearts crumble,
At the simple sight of you?

Your touch softens the hardest of souls,
Cooling the most rusted of spirits,
And warms men of coldest blood,

Oh what is that spell,
That you cast over all,
Who cringe at your suffering,
Rushing to your rescue,
At the smallest sign of pain?

Oh cease your magic for but an instant,
I wish to breathe free and feel me,
Just for a minute or two.

Oh why do men drool poems, songs,
And paintings over your beauty,
Composed of the same skin, only wrapped differently,
Defining their gods upon your form?

Are you not but human,

But merely of another kind?

Oh how do you seduce,
The strongest of minds,
To serve your feet,
And soften for you?

Seductress though you are,
Perhaps even evil at times,
Do not forsake this world,
For it shall know no love,
In your dreary absence

Written at 4:48pm on 1.1.2017 at C504, H13, IIT Bombay