In India's heart, where the story began,
Travelled far and wide to English land.
Koh-I-Noor, a jewel of blazing red,
Through a gem of grandeur, will history shed.

Durga's spirit danced amidst history's fierce battles,
Spoke of the tales, the English would be rattled.
Yet came a time when the queen was laid to rest,
Emerged the heir adorned with crown's gem brimming with zest.

The crown, a symbol of dominant authority,
Koh I Noor, radiant, surrounded by jewels, like Lakshmi.
Within India's gaze, there was stolen culture,
Thievery and cruelty, is the English sculpture.

Royal jeweler, why did you cut her,
A long time ago, it's almost a blur.
Was her bright glow not like Ushas?
In the hearts of man, anger rushes.

We know the truth, we are Parvati,
And we continue to know for all eternity.
To your crime, you're blind, an ear you won't lend,
And in the English land, will the story end.

(I would like to add I am not Indian. I have no ties to this lovely gem and cannot relate to it's reluctance to come home. However I saw an article about it's true nature and wanted to write a poem about it. If I have inaccurately portrayed this gem. please feel free to tell me. I'll change in heartbeat)
© Myth