“What kind of a warrior,
You boast yourself, you’re?
Someone’s wife you steal,
Aren’t you ashamed to feel?
“In the husband’s absence,
His wife, with no sense
You carry to your place,
Upon you, what a disgrace?
“What a heroic deed you did,
In killing an innocent old bird,
To save me from your hold,
You aren’t really bold.”
“You know not Ram’s power,
To fight his enemies shiver,
Now your days are over.”
Sure, your end is almost near.”
“How can I accept you?
How foolish are you?
I would prefer to die here
Rather yield, out of fear.”
Little attention to what she said,
Ravan, on his way to Lanka, paid.
In Asoka Garden, as a prisoner,
With strict guards, he kept her.
His attempts to woo her,
Failed to convince her,
To become his consort,
Despite his best effort.
Twelve months, he gave her,
To come to a decision fair,
Either to accept him,
Or to be eaten by him.
Though overwhelmed by grief,
She had the faith and belief,
Ram and Lakshman, one day,
Would rescue her, come what may?
So strong was her belief,
She was sure of relief,
Neither terrorised by his threat,
Nor fascinated by his assets.
Ravan sent feelers how,
Ram disposed of his days now?
How far he lost his will,
To fight with him still?
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