The Poetry: Echoes

4. THE CURSE OF UNREQUITED LOVE

Wandering around down the hill,
My eyes witness the people living the sacred lives,
Their eyes lost vision,
but in them the serenity resides,
Being in the shell I never got to witness this,
But now I did.
So, all the greenery and blues echo your name,
Sometimes loud sometimes in whispers,
Dwelling on the branch of lies I never got to hear this,
But now I did.
So I sat beside a monk and said
"My soul's got stuck in this worldly affair,
In one such life I committed a thing unfair-
I broke someone's heart
Yes, I did.
My desire knows no boundaries,
so I live infinitely,
"All the things you love, you won't get anywhere
Once loved and found and you'll lose again"
So yes I got cursed again,
Yes, the Almighty did.
Fleeing from the prophecy,
I engaged myself to desires again,
One dream fulfilled,
The second caught my eyes,
Everyone shouted aloud:
"Her eyes say it all!
Searching to destroy once and all!
Too cold to love someone-
Her heart is of demon's!"
I embraced this identity,
As I lived in my territory alone,
But one day, standing on my balcony,
I saw something in the dark-
Enchanting as the moon,
And smile attuned,
Had warmth like the sun,
As cold as I was,
I found "my" soul,
Eyes I could die for,
The soul I craved all along.
The heart beats fast and eyes widen,
When you see "the one"
So, I surrendered to this thing anew,
One day, I wrapped a ring and bought,
The second day on my knees I proposed,
"Six years down the hill,
I tried everything to forget you, but I didn't.
Never loved someone for so long,
wrote you in my poems prolonged,
As I observed from afar...
Will you become the bandage to my future scars?"
He paused a minute and said
"Sorry..."
My fingers trembled as I lost the ring,
But after all who will love a thing "Astray"?
Bruised my knees and punched the floor,
Knuckles bled and the echoes called...
"Why not always me!?
What's the curse I got!?
To not get the one I love most!!!"
The monk gasped, hearing my tale:
"Love's a thing complex, yet it enchants.
Not written in your destiny,
But live life even in agony,
For people who really love"
A smile shaped on my face,
As I whispered,
"Whom do you think you are talking to?
Not an angel not a demon either
The white chrysanthemum is already withered"