Red - Seven of Seven

By Gauri Srinivas

Watch her in black and white across blotched screens,

Appearing in newspapers, television sets and magazines,

Cameras glinted on her face with whitewashed backdrops,

Little did she know she would be one of his many props.

Watch him in colour across streaked displays,

An armlet around his wrist, worth more than what money could pay,

A ring of ruby gems on his finger,

In her mind he would forever linger.

Watch him pull her in and watch her restrain,

She wailed in agony only for it to culvert in vain,

Refusal redeemed redundant and wishes waged vagueness,

She laid there alive but lifeless.

Watch him withdraw and walk away,

He snapped his bracelet back on as she broke and frayed,

Her body blackened to bits and she bled of red,

She called upon the wailing woman for she watched herself desecrate.

Watch her bathe in bleach and smother down vinegar,

In her sleep he would appear, reappear and hover,

She built herself a coffin and dug her own grave,

For she had fallen prey to a ruthless knave.

Watch him smug and smirtle at her suffering,

A tale of torment he obtruded was something he was reminiscing,

Afraid of none, afraid of none, afraid of none,

The devil himself would kneel to him undone.

Watch her disdain herself away in dismay,

She squalled through nights and pleaded through days,

She rendered hymns for his infernal sin,

Only to smoulder herself from within.

By Gauri Srinivas