Conjugal Conundrum

By Shobhit Gupta

Your rosy lips are meant to be kissed

Not to be bled red

Love would fill you with bliss

Marriage could condemn you to dread

You should be treasured, hidden and cherished

You aren’t for display like a trophy wife

Love would be a garland of flowers

And marriage could be a cold knife

You are a soul to be loved

Not a body to be possessed

Love would be liberating 

Marriage can make one oppressed 

You are the femme fatale

And not some docile lass  

Love would make you a killer

And marriage would kill your sass

You are a fairy tale 

Not banal reality 

Love would make you immortal

Marriage could omen fatality 

By Shobhit Gupta