They never thought of the little flower,

Like you never think of your freedom,

An irresponsible and disgusting mistake,

And now she sleeps with one eye open.

They never paid enough attention,

Never thought of it as wrong,

But the blood on her clothes speak a different story,

Like the bruised throat that sings the dead man's song.

She is the one that could be anyone's,

No religion, caste or creed make any difference,

But everyone carries the same cheap mindset,

It's not our problem unless she's family, or has inheritance.

And when all the miserable deed is done,

When the demons trample on the flowerbed,

You will cover your face with those fake emotions,

While her eyes show the suffering, and the heart bleeds red.

Living in fear is never an option,

Neither should ever it be a choice,

But living in this hell of a hole called Society,

Where they eat you out no different than ticks and lice.

Whenever a rose screams the song of rebellion,

The voice is smothered by her thousand tears,

No one dares object against the abomination,

Because the culprit is our own, among the "good" peers.

To the people in this world, Is this your slogan?

To demand assistance, but in turn help no one,

If you can't have the courage to protect your loved ones,

SHE WILL CONTINUE TO SLEEP WITH ONE EYE OPEN!