Recently
a rose dried and its crisp petals fell,
As
it bent over the window sill..
Yet
one sniff revealed its sweet spell,
It
contained the fragrance still..!
Its
thorns softened, its stem cracked,
The
crimson darkened at the edges..
Yet,
its beauty was unharmed, a story unfolded,
Pollen,
still a part of some pages..!
Oh
how it was given by a handsome hand,
To
a pretty shy recluse..
Under
the moonlight, the red glowed,
As
people danced in twos..!
Dazzled
smiles walked in bliss,
The
rose blossomed further as the days passed by..
Sparkled
eyes after an enchanted kiss,
They
sung together under the open blue sky..!
A
safe haven, better than heaven,
A
riot of colours was seen by the rose...
A
museum of love, a blessing from above,
It
was a placebo of high dose..!
A
symbol it was for the lass, and a convenient notion,
Its
freshness made statues smile..
It
was a gamble for the lad, an unpleasant intention,
Just
another lift for the next mile...!
With
the rose in the middle,
Two
lovers fought inexorably,
And
put their hearts on a hot griddle!
Thus
after some days, the story came to an end,
The
lone rose wept as nothing it could amend.
It
was hastily shifted to a random window frame,
And
was no more a prop in any evil game.
Now
it stares at the light outside,
Reflecting on its roller-coaster ride,
It
notices the pretty lass..
And
as the un-ringed finger strokes the flower in trance,
The
tears fall and pose as dew,
And
a crouched crimson continues to breathe,
With
a hope of starting life Anew!!!
