The Lady Of The Night

I stand amidst a thousand others,
Yet I stand out, separate and alone.
People know I'm just a flower that withers
After just a night of passionate blooming and rising.

He's someone who doesn't know about me,
Someone who has never seen me before.
But yet, he picks me out from the crowd.
Perhaps because, on me, the fragrance is more?

Oh, those from my class tend to do that.
Spreading fragrance and pleasure is what we're for.
The someone I'm waiting for loves me for just a night.
He comes to take me, to worship and adore.

And then he appears - just the golden
Moon from behind the clouds. He smiles,
He takes my hand, and tells me where and when.
I smile back, I know what a night it's going to be.

Everything is just as I wanted it to be.
I kiss, I touch, like a shy, virginal bride.
I show him all the heights he wants to see.
And then, with a smile, I sleep in his arms.

Now is the time to open my eyes,
To find him next to me, to smile at his sweet face.
But he isn't there - and then, my hope dies,
As my eyes fall on the tattered fifty-rupee note.

I'm, after all, the flower that blooms for a night;
Paid for to grow, to smile and to then shrivel
To the floor. But I know I'll bloom again. For tonight -
For another man, another time, another fifty-rupee note.