The Lady Who Stole The World

By Lalhriat Kima

Huntress, sent from drifting clouds above,

Seen shifting from one prey to the next

Lifting their misted secrets thereof

And keeping it at bay – Until you went away;

Leave them laying, empty and vexed

Independent though you feel you are,

‘Cruel’ is a word that befits your charm.

Countless are the unreturned affections

To the love your preys displayed,

Who draws ever closer to you

Like ants do to fallen sugar

One hundred-eighty different names,

All of them burnt up in flames,

Each time you return to your wanderings:

And not once yearn for their passing

Without shame, chasing that fame

By Lalhriat Kima