Mona Lisa , Leonardo Da Vinci’s masterpiece, is undoubtedly the world’s most mysterious painting. Right from the position of the lady’s fingers, to the the uncanny landscape have been questioned since the beginning of time. In this backdrop, I have composed a poem, voicing the inner conflict of the most mysterious lady in the world.
Since the fateful day I was conceptualized,
I was , I am, I will be, minutely scrutinized,
Some say that I have an enigmatic smile,
Others believe I haven’t smiled for a while,
There are theories that I have a lovely veil on,
Cracks bear testimony to the eons bygone,
Concealed or deeply evanesced are my brows,
I was even stealthily possessed by highbrows,
Position of my fingers have raised questions,
Ambiguous landscape have led to speculations,
The realms of my identity have been pondered,
For perpetuation, millions were squandered,
They say I could have been a woman or a man,
I am real or fictitious, knows not even one man,
I have been attempted to be mauled by acid and rock,
Which has led to my new sanctuary in a glass block,
Medical experts claim I was suffering from ailments,
Curious eyes are in search of bridges and calamints,
All these questioning needles have caused immense ache,
All these questions have put my existence at stake,
Am I a canvas of paints or a canvas of questions, mate,
A poet’s imagination, was this supposed to be my fate?
Comments and different interpretations are always welcome!
Till the next time, let’s paint our thoughts aloud through words!