Yonder, I see a beautiful person,
Getting near I rely on reason,
Beauty is not in the eye, I feel
It is found in the benign act,I seal.
The deceptive looks deduce a confound.
The sweet smile is actually range bound.
It is a treacherous facility that abounds
Forecasting a terrible tumble aground.
Never be carried away by outward show.
It would lead to a disastrous flow.
The hideous face hides itself in a profile low.
Waiting for a chance to strike a severe blow.
The blow does not injure the physical limbs.
It would strike deadly on the heart’s rims.
Extracting every sinew of the nerves to the brim.
Inducting a ghastly bloody wound plausibly grim.
Light heartedly, they go about in joyful excitement.
Revelling in the mirth of having struck the target vehement.
One day they would repent for their wicked ploy in indictment.
And endure a harsh curse and drastic swear all in a predicament
Meenas Poems 