Doomed
P Pradip Chattopadhyay
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They ravaged her body, her spirit never healed
The day she was abused was the day she was killed.
They probed the incident; it was just another case,
It really mattered little, the shame on her face.
Tongues kept rolling, gossips with spice,
She invited it; she was a woman with vice.
Her looks lured them, the way she dressed,
She was also flirty, reasons to be disgraced.
Her pity was a story, her agony in courtroom
Scattered lay her life, in the darkness of doom.
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